


Maggot in Rat's Clothing

by CactusPot



Category: Total Drama (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Butterfly Effect, Competition, Gen, POV Third Person Limited, Revenge of the Island AU, the focus is on jo not the competition as a whole, zoke is canon and jock is implied but neither are central to the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 79,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24620998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CactusPot/pseuds/CactusPot
Summary: Before Jo could unleash a torrent of insults on the traitorous scumbags, Chris called the Maggots back to order. The cheeky grin on his face only broadened as he spoke. “Lucky for Jo, tonight’s eliminated Maggot is tomorrow’s new Rat!”All six teens gasped. Jo’s relief was only trumped by the satisfaction she received knowing she was the cause of Cameron’s and Mike’s terrified expressions.---After losing the nighttime challenge in Finders Creepers, the Mutant Maggots vote out Jo, unwittingly sending her over to the Toxic Rats. While her domineering influence wreaks havoc on Scott's plans of sabotage, Jo's own gameplay is turned on its head as she forges new alliances and realizes maybe people don't suck as much as she thought.
Comments: 32
Kudos: 57





	1. Dead Maggot Walking

_Private Peepants is definitely going home tonight_ , Jo thought as Chris tossed Anne Maria the penultimate marshmallow.

The nighttime scavenger hunt had been a major bust. Privately, in her own mind, Jo admitted maybe her team could’ve won if she had allowed Brick to untie at least a few other teammates from Izzy’s web of doom. But that was neither here nor there. 

The point was, the Maggots had lost, and who was the only person at the finish line? Brick. The superlative of ‘best scapegoat’ could not have been more obvious to Jo.

“And tonight, the losing player is…” Chris trailed off, letting the tension sink in. 

Jo cast a confident smirk in Brick’s direction, attempting to let him know he was a goner. Brick missed the message entirely; his gaze was laser-pointed on the tips of his combat boots.

She was still leering at Brick when Chris called the final name. 

“Jo.”

“ _What_?” The sneer dropped off her face as Chris’s pronouncement registered. Brick’s nervous expression dissolved as he accepted the last marshmallow.

Jo whirled on her feet to face her team.

“You all voted for _me_?” she snarled. “I’m your _leader_! I’ve been carrying you to victory in all the challenges!”

Mike piped up in a small voice. “You wouldn’t let us look for Zoey or Brick when they got captured.” 

“We lost because _you_ wouldn’t let Brick untie us.” Cameron’s goody-two-shoes voice grated on Jo’s ears.

“Yeah, you were actin’ like a brat,” Anne Maria quipped, unimpressed.

“Oh that’s rich coming from _you_ , Miss ‘I Spray My Hair Every Five Seconds’,” Jo shot back. If looks could kill, Jo would be long gone; but then again, so would Anne Maria.

Before Jo could unleash a torrent of insults on the traitorous scumbags, Chris called the Maggots back to order. The cheeky grin on his face only broadened as he spoke. “Lucky for Jo, tonight’s eliminated Maggot is tomorrow’s new Rat!”

All six teens gasped. Jo’s relief was only trumped by the satisfaction she received knowing she was the cause of Cameron’s and Mike’s terrified expressions.

“That’s right!” Chris drove home the point. “From now on, Jo and Brick will be fighting it out on opposite teams.”

Brick met Jo’s pointed stare. She didn’t know what was running through his head, but her own thoughts were simple. _At least I won’t have to deal with his namby-pamby cadet code anymore_.

Chris left to fling an unsuspecting Dakota on the Hurl of Shame. Jo didn’t care to watch, and neither did anyone else, so the six Maggots—scratch that, five Maggots and one Rat—walked back to camp.

 _What a bunch of losers_ , Jo scoffed to herself. Her former teammates trailed behind her by a good few feet. No one had the guts to face her after the stunt they pulled. Not even a hint of remorse from Soggy McGhee or Apology Brat, two of the sappiest saps on the whole team.

The path gave way to the campground. On prior nights, the Maggots had sometimes waited up to see which Rat got the boot. But tonight, the campground was devoid of campers; all the Rats were most likely catching up on missed sleep. Jo strolled into the Maggot girls’ dorm without a second thought.

If it had been any other person, like Zoey, for instance, retrieving her belongings from the Maggots’ cabin would have been awkward. 

_If Zoey was in my shoes_ , Jo theorized, _she probably would cry for five hours straight_. 

Fortunately for Jo, she didn’t care what Zoey or Anne Maria thought of her, so waterworks were easily avoided.

Speaking of her former teammates, Anne Maria and Zoey walked in a few seconds after Jo. The former hopped straight into bed. The latter, however, sat on her bed and watched Jo pack.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Red?” Jo muttered as she tossed some dirty socks into her duffel bag. “Regretting your decision to kick me out?”

“I don’t know yet.” Zoey’s voice was quieter and more wobbly than usual.

_Didn’t Chris say Mike kissed Anne Maria or something? Wow, Zoey must be wrecked. What a sucker. Why these girls are obsessed with Pointy I’ll never know._

“I guess I can’t blame you for wanting to eliminate your strongest competition.” Jo hoisted her duffel bag over her shoulder. “‘Cause when I make it to the merge, I’m going to crush everyone who’s still standing.”

Zoey nodded sullenly. Jo stood at the door, poised to leave. Anne Maria snored.

Maybe it was because Jo liked sticking her nose where it didn’t belong, or maybe she just liked raining on other people’s parades; whatever the case, Jo couldn’t help but add, “Don’t waste your time on Hedgehog Hair. He’s not worth it.”

Zoey looked up at her. “W-what?”

“If you want any chance of beating me or whatever, you need to stop whining over an _actor_ with a _mullet_.”

“What do _you_ know about Mike?” Zoey sniffled.

“Hey, absolutely nothing. I don’t care. At all.” Jo scratched her neck. “I’m just saying. This is a competition, not a dating show.”

She left before Zoey could muster the courage to respond.

 _Should I knock_? Jo briefly considered it while she stood in front of the Rat girls’ dorm. _Ah, screw it_.

The door swung open before Jo’s fingers ever touched the handle.

“Cree-py,” Jo remarked, stepping inside.

“Hello, Jo.” A dainty voice came from the farthest side of the cabin. The lights were out, but in the light of the overhead moon Jo could make out the outline of the only other female Rat.

Jo closed the door behind her. “Newsflash, Nature Freak, we’re roommates now.”

“I had a hunch something like this would happen.”

“What, you read my ‘aura’ and foresaw I’d join your team?” Jo’s voice dripped with sarcasm. She dumped the contents of her duffel bag on the top of the bunkbed opposite Dawn’s.

“No, it’s just that the teams were becoming unbalanced, what with us Rats losing three members in a row,” Dawn explained. “Chris likes balance. _That_ is evident in his aura.”

“Whatever you say.” Jo shucked off her shoes, shed her hoodie, and settled underneath the scratchy sheets.

Out of pure curiosity, Jo glanced again at Dawn; her new roomie was sitting upright, meditating.

“Aren’t you tired?” 

“Oh, I’m used to very little sleep,” Dawn answered calmly. “I meditate best at night.”

Jo raised an eyebrow and made a mental note to _not_ question it. Without another word, she turned on her side and went to sleep.


	2. With All Gulls Blazing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo's first challenge as a Toxic Rat involves skis, gulls, and a majorly angry mutant shark. Dawn shares some observations with her new roomie.

Dawn was gone by the time Jo woke up. Ironic; she had been the earliest riser among the Maggot girls, and now she was the latest among the Rats. 

After slinging her whistle around her neck, Jo hustled out of the cabin. If she was lucky, she could find someone to torment before breakfast even began.

Lo and behold, she stumbled across both her new roommate and old rival within five minutes of waking up. Targets: located. 

By the time Jo reached the campfire pit right, Dawn was walking into the shrubbery, a trash bag thrown over her shoulder.

“...I’m large and in charge!”

But Brick was talking to himself, and _that_ was funny. Jo snickered and blew her whistle.

“Ten _hut_!” she yelled.

“Sir, yes sir!” Brick didn’t even turn _around_ before saluting. Unfortunately for him, and fortunately for Jo, he hit himself in the face with a log and keeled over.

Jo leaned over her fallen former teammate and smirked. “Hangin’ out with Moonchild, huh? Guess you’re trying to get the scoop on us Rats, since with _me_ on the team, you Maggots are gonna lose _every_ challenge.”

“Negative _that_!” Brick countered, scrambling up to defend the Maggots. “While you are an admittedly capable player in many regards”—Jo’s smirk broadened—“my teammates’ individual strengths will bring us to victory once more!”

She rolled her eyes. “If that’s what helps you sleep at night, G. I. Joke. Rats are totally gonna _decimate_ you, and _you_ will regret ever voting me out.”

Brick scratched his head, and some of the fight seemed to leave him. “I didn’t vote for you, Jo.”

“Oh really?” That tidbit of information caught her interest. “Who’d you pick, then? Pointy? Tan-in-a-can?”

Brick hesitated. “I voted for myself.”

_That’s a shocker,_ thought Jo. _And also not._ Aloud, she said, “What, you realized you weren’t cut out for a million-dollar competition?”

“I simply felt I should face consequences for not following my own code.” Brick folded his arms. 

_Again with the code stuff._ Jo stifled a yawn.

He added, “Heck, I even considered volunteering for elimination.”

“Welp, glad you didn’t.” Jo clapped him on the back. “Thanks to your betrayal, I’m on the _superior_ team, and I’m gonna win this whole thing.”

Brick eyed her warily for a moment, and Jo decided the conversation had run its course.

“Alrighty, enough with the smack talk,” she said. “Let’s get some breakfast.”

When they reached the mess hall ten minutes later, Brick and Jo parted ways to sit with their respective teams. Jo sat down opposite Scott, stared at the “food” on her plate, and suddenly wasn’t hungry. 

“ _Raw_ meat for breakfast?” she griped, raising her fork to display the intestine of some unknown animal. “I like steak and bacon as much as the next person, but this is overkill.”

“I think it’s actually _road_ kill,” Sam joked from beside her. Jo didn’t acknowledge him; the pun would have been funny if _she_ had said it, but from anyone else it was just lame.

Scott scrutinized Jo, and while he was doing that, she decided she disliked him.

“Jo,” he said finally, blue-gray eyes narrowed, “ready for today’s challenge?”

“I’m ready for whatever McLean throws at us!” she boasted. 

“So you say,” Scott said dryly. He turned his full attention to his plate, as boys were wont to do.

As Jo ate, Sam pestered her. “Do you have any cheat codes to help us defeat the Maggots?”

“All you need to know is that they’re a bunch of losers,” Jo answered cooly. She and Sam observed the Maggots at the other table. 

Anne Maria attempted to feed pork to a very disturbed Mike. Zoey pointedly had her back turned to both of them and was trying to converse with Brick; Brick, in turn, was patting Cameron sympathetically on the back, as the tiny boy had just choked on a rib.

“Yeah, losers,” Jo repeated. “All caught up in their own little dramas.

“What about you Rats? Why did it take you _four_ challenges to finally win?”

“Unfortunate luck, I guess.” Sam chuckled hesitantly. “Some people weren’t really focused on the game.”

“Pinkzilla and Chatterbox?”

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, Dakota is a cool gal, and I’m glad she’s back interning, but, well, her heart wasn’t in the game.”

Jo finished eating the intestine. “It seems like you’ve gotten rid of your dead weight, then. With me on the team, the Toxic Rats are due for a winning streak!”

“Yeah!” Sam agreed. 

“Yeah,” Scott repeated with about 100% less enthusiasm. 

Breakfast was almost over, and Jo still had yet to talk to Lightning or Dawn. She needed to talk to Lightning so she could assert her dominance over the Rats, and she needed to talk to Dawn—well, she didn’t need to talk to Dawn, but talking exclusively to dumb boys all morning was kinda draining.

Unfortunately, neither conversation took place because Chris had the brilliant idea to sic a rabid raccoon on the mess hall.

“What’s the matter with you?” Jo demanded of the host after she and her companions had escaped its terror. “That thing could have killed us!”

To her chagrin, Chris merely chuckled at her ire. “Nah. Only if you got between him and food.”

Five seconds later, the raccoon hurled Lightning through the mess hall windows. 

“Aaaaah!” he shrieked as he flew through the air. It crossed Jo’s mind that she wouldn’t need to assert dominance over Lightning if he was dead. 

The football star crashed into the dirt a few yards behind Chris, but the host didn’t so much as turn around.

“Now that everyone is accounted for, I believe I told you to suit up!” Chris clapped his hands together. “Chop chop, I’ll see you at the dock!” 

Honestly, Jo hadn’t gone swimming since last summer, and even then she had only done laps, by herself, in the lake down the street from her house. It was more than a little bit weird to be standing in her swimsuit surrounded by people who had, up until a few days ago, been total strangers.

Oh yeah, and she was being filmed for international television. Can’t forget that part. In any case, Jo hid her discomfort well and listened as Chris explained the rules. Dive in the lake to find skis, win an advantage in part two, yada yada yada. 

Before she could volunteer for the task, Scott beat her to the punch.

“Time to prove your loyalty to your new _team_ ,” he sneered, shoving the diving suit into her hands.

“Loyalty shmoyalty,” she snarked in return. “I’m the strongest one here; it’s no wonder you need _me_ to be the diver.”

“Sha-hold on now.” Lightning narrowed his eyes. “Who said _you’re_ the strongest?”

“Did I stutter?” Jo grinned snidely at him. This was exactly the type of task she needed to assert her dominance.

While Dawn and Sam calmed down an enraged Lightning, Jo pulled on the suit; a glance to the right revealed she’d be playing against Brick, who was also suiting up to dive.

_Talk about an easy win_!

And then they were in the water, skis in sight dead ahead. Jo could only hope her team was competent enough to keep pumping oxygen.

_Ugh, I hate being at the mercy of those buffoons_! she thought as she took astronaut-like leaps across the lake floor. The only thing worse would be losing to _Brickhead_.

Suddenly, an unseen force halted her motions. While Brick forged on ahead, Jo twisted around to see a certain mutant shark was holding her oxygen tube. Fang’s toothy grin struck terror into Jo’s otherwise fearless heart.

“Aaaah!”

Fang swam towards her, and she started running. Curse water for slowing down her movements!

Just as Jo had accepted her fate, her suit swelled up like a balloon, and Fang bounced off harmlessly.

“What the heck are they _doing_ up there?” Jo muttered. She tried to wave her arm, a suddenly difficult task. “I can barely move in this thing!”

As luck would have it, Fang returned. Jo could only watch helplessly when he wrapped his scaly claws around her oxygen tube and bounced her around like his own person paddle ball. No doubt Brick had gotten the Maggots’ skis by now. Ugh, how she hated Chris and his dumb challenges!

On the thirtieth or thirty first bounce—Jo had stopped keeping track—her suit detached from the oxygen cord, sending her flying through the water.

“Aaaaah!” she hollered as she hit a rock. The momentum sent her flying out of the lake, and she landed on the beach a few yards down from the dock.

Still wearing the tattered diving suit, Jo wasted no time returning to the dock. She grumbled as she situated herself next to Scott and Sam.

“What’d I miss?” she asked venomously.

“You won the challenge and now we get a boat,” Sam explained nonchalantly.

Jo perked up. “I won? I mean, of course I won. I’m the best.”

“Yeah, sure you are, _stealer_ ,” Scott said, glaring at her. She matched his glare evenly.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

Before they could pursue the topic further, Chris started yapping about more rules, and both Jo and Scott shut up.

“Choose three campers to water ski, one to drive, and one to operate the gull cannon.” Chris held up the corresponding number of fingers for each position.

“Gull cannon?” Dawn repeated.

Chris pressed a red button. “Yeah, you heard me.”

The gull cannons were the most beautiful thing Jo had ever seen in her life. Shooting venomous rattlesnake-seagull hybrids at her enemies was basically a dream come true, and she wasn’t the only one who recognized the sheer awesomeness of the setup.

“First-person shooter.” Sam was practically salivating. “ _Cool_.”

After Chris _finally_ finished explaining the rules, it was time to divide up the jobs.

“Lightning’s _driving_!” Lightning announced, hopping into the driver’s seat.

“Shotgun!” Scott yelled. Before he could touch the gull cannon, Jo pulled him back. 

“No way are _you_ touching those gulls! That job was _made_ for me!” she snapped.

Scott retorted, “I’ve been shooting kitchen rats with my pappi since I was _six_.”

At that moment Jo realized that she didn’t need to assert dominance over _Lightning_ ; it was Scott who she needed to convince.

“Well I’ve been sharpshooting with my uncle since I was _four_.” It was the kind of exaggeration she would have used during her banter with Brick, but it had no effect on Scott, whose scowl only deepened.

“Can you guys just hurry up and settle this?” Sam asked, slightly annoyed. 

“Scott, just let Jo gun!” Dawn pleaded.

Jo smiled, and Scott glared. “You’re siding with _her_ over _me_?”

“Jo’s aura is more promising,” Dawn admitted. “But there’s no time to explain! We have to get going!”

_Dumbest compliment I’ve ever received_ , Jo thought, _but if it gets me the gull cannon, I’m not gonna complain_.

She shoved Scott out of the boat and grabbed the gull cannon. Jo could practically taste victory, and it tasted like seagull—which probably tasted like chicken, she wasn’t sure. 

Chris blew his air horn. “Go!”

Lightning floored it, and the boat zoomed off. Sam, Dawn, and Scott screamed as they struggled to properly water ski.

“Sha-zoom, baby!” Lightning chortled. “We got this in the _bag_! Those Maggots will never catch up!”

“I hear that!” Jo shouted back, an adrenaline-induced grin on her face. “These Rats are gonna _win_!”

As Lightning maneuvered closer to the mines, a gull whizzed past both his and Jo’s heads.

“Sha-what?” Lightning whipped his head around, and so did Jo.

“It’s the Maggots!” she realized, zeroing in on the competition. “They’re trying to take us out!”

The yellow dinghy lagged behind, unsurprising since Brick was driving. Behind him, Anne Maria stood beside the cannon, which only contained two gulls. Jo pursed her lips.

“We don’t have time to worry about them!” she called to Lightning. “Let me take out this first mine, and then we’ll think about retribution!”

“Sha-yeah!” Lightning veered to the left. A mine came into view. Jo took aim and fired.

_Kaboom_.

“Woohoo!” she and Lightning cheered as they whizzed past the explosion. A glance back revealed Dawn and Sam were cheering too; Scott wasn’t.

_He’s probably still mad I stole the cannon_. She patted it affectionately. _Sucks to suck_!

And then a gull hit Lightning.

“Lightning’s been hit!” Lightning shrieked. “Lightning… been… hit…” His words dissolved into nonsensical mumblings as he slumped over the stern.

“Lightning!” Jo yelled. “Wake your lazy butt up! We need a driver!”

“Woo hoo!” Anne Maria shrieked at the Maggots’ dinghy rode past. “Maggots rule!”

_Oh, no way am I losing to_ Poofhead.

In a split-second decision, Jo shoved Lighting aside. She grabbed the wheel and halted the boat.

“Aaah!” The three water skiers crashed into her.

“Lightning is down, Rats!” Jo lectured, not checking to see if her teammates were uninjured. “We need a new plan of attack!”

A mine exploded in the distance.

“And _fast_!”

“I have a suggestion!” Dawn piped up. 

“Let’s hear it, runt.”

“Jo, you stay on as our gunner. Sam, you drive. Scott and I will ski with Lightning.”

_Maybe Flower Power isn’t so useless after all_ , Jo mused as the Rats repositioned themselves. She’d mention that to the confessional later. Sam started the boat, and the Rats rejoined the race.

“We have two gulls for one mine!” Jo shouted to Sam. “Can you get us closer to the Maggots?”

“I can try?” Sam complied, increasing the speed.

“Sorry, Brick,” Jo muttered as she took aim at the cadet. “But not really.”

In less than a second, the gull shot out of the cannon and latched onto Brick’s shoulder.

“Yeah!” Jo shouted as the Rats’ boat pulled again once again. “That one is for _Lightning_!”

Anne Maria glared from behind her soot-stained gull cannon, which was—out of commission?

“Her gun is jammed!” Sam yelled excitedly.

“Jo! Sam!” Dawn yelled. “Here comes the last mine!”

“Woooo!” Jo hollered as she shot the third and final gull. It hit the mine, which sunk into the water. For a moment, there was no reaction.

_Did that not work_? Jo’s heart skipped a beat.

The ensuing twenty-foot explosion knocked her right out of the boat.

“Ah!” she tumbled through the waves. When the waves stabilized, Jo swam back to shore.

As expected, she was the first person back. While more and more teammates washed up, Jo glanced at Chris, who was watching the waterlogged teens with keen interest.

“So we won, right?” she asked. 

“Absolutely,” Chris replied. “We might need to take Lightning and Brick to the infirmary for gull-related injuries, but that’s what makes it fun.”

“You got that right.” Jo smirked. 

A soaking wet Dawn meandered over, still holding her trash bag. “Good job, Jo! We definitely couldn’t have won without you.”

Jo nodded smugly. “I know.”

“Isn’t this just _perfect_ ,” Scott drawled as he and Sam joined the girls. Sam propped up an unconscious Lightning.

“It _is_ perfect,” Jo shot back.

At that point, Brick washed up on the beach, the last of the ten players to arrive. 

“Maggots, you’re voting out a player,” Chris informed them. “Twice in a row? Tsk tsk tsk.”

Jo glanced over at her ex-teammates. Zoey and Mike held up Brick, who was also knocked out.

“Hey Zoey!” Jo called.

Zoey glanced up. “Yeah?”

Jo nodded at the unresponsive cadet in her hands. “When Jarhead wakes up, tell him I told him so.”

Zoey sighed. “Sure thing, Jo.”

The absence of Brick’s competitive repartee, Lightning’s dim-witted comments, and Mike and Zoey’s flirtatious banter created a quiet and uneventful lunch. Afterwards, Jo exercised in the girls’ cabin while Dawn was out talking to butterflies or whatever. When she decided she had worked up a satisfactory sweat, Jo showered. 

She spent at least a half hour in the confessional, mostly ranting about how dumb her teammates were. Sam? Dumb. Scott? Skeazy _and_ dumb. Dawn? Less dumb, but still a weirdo. Lightning? He was _king_ of the dumb.

Lightning had recovered by dinner time, so he entertained the table with his half-conscious mutterings about protein. Even Jo was amused, though she laughed at his expense. Afterwards, the Maggots left to vote out a member.

Jo headed into the cabin instead of waiting around with the Rat boys.

“You’re not gonna wait?” Sam glanced at her from his seat on the cabin steps. A dazed Lightning sat beside him.

“I considered it,” Jo told him, her voice laced with disdain, “then I remembered I don’t care about those traitors.”

“As if we wanted to hang out with a thief anyways,” Scott whispered under his breath.

Jo chose not to pursue the comment because Scott was a waste of space. 

Instead, she slammed the cabin door behind her and flopped down on her bed, thinking about the Maggots. Brick was fun to tease, and now that he was on the other team, he was inconsequential, at least until the merge. After last night, Jo was kinda hoping Zoey would beat the crap out of Anne Maria or Mike. _That_ would be fun to watch. As for the latter two, they were annoying and weird, respectively. Cameron? A nerdy weakling with absolutely no skills aside from being the expendable doer-of-stuff-that-stinks.

So yeah, if she had to hope for a boot, it would be Cameron.

Dawn’s voice intruded on her thoughts. “Jo.” 

Jo bolted up. “Have you been in here the whole time?”

“Pretty much,” Dawn confirmed. “So? How did you like your first day with the Rats?”

“You guys aren’t _half_ bad. But then again, Lightning’s been unconscious all day, so I dunno how I’ll feel tomorrow.”

Dawn nodded thoughtfully. “And Scott? What do you think of him?”

“He’s a total slimeball. I mean, he hasn’t done anything slimy _yet_ , but I won’t be surprised when he does.”

“Yes, I agree.” Dawn hugged her knees. “His aura troubles me.”

“And why are you telling _me_ this?” Jo quipped. “I don’t believe in that junk.”

“Well would you believe me if I simply said I don’t trust Scott?” Dawn pressed. “No auras required?”

“Duh. I don’t trust Scott either,” Jo replied. She twisted on her bed to face Dawn. “I don’t trust you, either. Or anyone else on this island. It’s a _reality show_ , for Pete’s sake.”

“Oh, I am well aware. Your trust issues are quite evident in your aura,” Dawn fidgeted with her green sweater. “You shouldn’t be afraid to let others help you, or to help them in return. It’s a life skill.”

“If you’re gonna psychoanalyze me”—Jo stood up—”I’d rather be outside with Game Guy and Protein Powder.”

“My bad, Jo. I’m just trying to understand you.”

“You don’t _need_ to understand me,” Jo replied sourly. “You need to stay out of my way so I can win.”

Dawn sighed. “Everyone here is so broken.”

Jo shot to Dawn’s bedside. “That said, I’ll _gladly_ let you psychoanalyze me if you tell me everyone else’s weaknesses.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Dawn said demurely, deflating Jo’s hope of gaining an edge over the competition. 

“Then I’m going to bed,” Jo said. “As a serious competitor, I need _sleep_ to rest up for the challenges.”

“Have a nice night,” Dawn said as Jo settled into bed.

Jo only replied so she could make use of the new nickname she had just thought up. “G’night, Psych Major.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The most challenging part of writing is coming up with punny names for the chapter titles. Originally, I had 'Shoot Gulls First, Ask Questions Later,' but that didn't flow as well, hehe.
> 
> Anyways, that's one challenge completed. The Rats winning the ski challenge is probably the first major change in this butterfly effect. Jo doesn't intentionally sabotage Scott's attempts at sabotage, she's just too adamant about winning to let him have his way.
> 
> You'll have to wait until chapter three to see which Maggot got the boot. As the story is from Jo's perspective, there are some elements that she (and thus the readers) remains oblivious to (the most obvious being someone is stealing personal property). That will come up in later chapters.
> 
> Fun fact: I wrote chapters one through three on a 33-page document; chapters 1 and 2 combined took up 14 pages, and chapter 3 took up 19 pages on its own. The point being: Runaway Model is gonna be split into two different chapters. See ya later!


	3. Fashion School Dropout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo's least favorite challenge yet ends in disaster, especially when she accepts a challenge she knows she'll lose.

The next morning, Jo elected to go on a morning jog, a good wake-me-up for what was sure to be another day of strange and physically demanding challenges. Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it—someone else had the exact same idea.

The jogging path had entered into the deeper part of the forest when she heard her name being called. “Jo!” 

She glanced back; Brick was jogging a little ways behind her. 

“Looks like someone woke up late,” she remarked over her shoulder. “I’m usually up later than you, yet here I am. Or maybe I’m just ahead of you ‘cause I’m _faster_.” Out of pity, she slowed down so he could catch up to her.

Brick’s face was flushed. “It’s the former, ma’am. I seem to have misplaced my alarm clock.”

“Good. That thing was _annoying_.” Jo shuddered, recalling the annoying bugle tones that had woken her up several times. “You sure Anne Maria or Mike didn’t steal it?”

“Well if it was stolen, it definitely wasn’t Anne Maria, seeing as she was voted out last night.”

“No kidding?” Jo stopped running. Brick’s halt was less graceful, and he ran into a tree. 

“I was hoping for Cameron,” she added, chuckling a bit as Brick picked himself up. “But Tan-in-a-can was a hurl waiting to happen.”

“Anne Maria was a good friend and an enthusiastic soldier, but her lack of proficiency with the gull cannon earned her the boot. Plus, I think Zoey hates her.” 

Jo scoffed. “No, _duh_. I’m just glad I didn’t have to spend another night bunking with those two.”

“They couldn’t be _that_ bad,” Brick argued in defense of his friends.

“Like you would know.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Hello friends!” Their banter was interrupted by Dawn, approaching with her trash bag.

“I’m not your friend,” Jo said at the same time Brick said, “Hello, Dawn!”

“What are you doing out here?” Jo asked. “I thought Brickhead here and I were the only ones who used this path.”

“Oh, I didn’t follow the path. I was scavenging.”

“Find anything interesting?” Brick asked.

Jo elbowed him. “Get a clue. She’s obviously trying to search for that invincibility statue.”

“Oh. I forgot about that.”

Dawn frowned at Jo. “Don’t make such baseless assumptions. Although I wouldn’t mind finding the invincibility statue, that is not the intent of my scavenges.”

 _Dawn is a big fat liar_ , Jo thought. She refrained from voicing the thought, however, and replaced it with her signature eye roll.

Brick and Dawn struck up a conversation about Dawn’s foraging, and though the discussion was boring Jo to death, she decided to stick around, just in case Brick and Dawn decided to form an inter-team alliance.

 _Actually_ , she thought as Dawn talked about seashells, _that’s not such a bad idea_. While Jo was definitely capable enough to win the million without joining an official alliance, it couldn’t hurt, especially if the other people in the alliance were as gullible as Brick or Dawn. She’d keep the idea on the back burner, just in case.

* * *

Jo sat beside Lightning at breakfast. 

“Hey, brotha!” he said when he noticed her. “How early do you get up? Lightning’s never seen you inside the cabin!”

“Maybe that’s because I don’t _sleep_ on your side of the cabin,” Jo snapped.

Lightning’s eyebrows rose in confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense. Where else is a guy s’posed to sleep?”

 _Is this dude for real_? Jo poked him in the eyes and snarled, “Get your eyes checked, Jockstrap.” 

“Take it easy!” Across the table, Sam shrunk back. 

“Yeah, Jo,” Scott drawled. “Lightning’s on day two of protein withdrawal, and you’re just making things worse.”

“Protein withdrawal?” Jo repeated incredulously. 

“ _Someone_ stole Lightning’s protein powder yesterday morning,” Scott explained dryly, glaring at Jo. “I wonder who it could’ve been?”

“Pfft, probably _you_.” Jo stuffed a forkful of scrambled eggs—day old, thanks to Chef—into her mouth.

Dawn, who sat in between Scott and Sam, frowned at Scott.

“Let’s focus on creating some positive energy,” she suggested. “We’ve won the last two challenges, and we can’t stop now just because of infighting.”

“Yeah! Lightning ain’t sacrificing his losing streak for nothing!” Lightning proclaimed. 

“Can’t argue with that,” Jo said passively.

“Go Rats!” Sam cheered. He and Dawn smiled. Lightning downed his entire plate of eggs. Jo finished her eggs at a much more reasonable pace, and Scott just sulked.

Jo wasn’t one to hope that her team would lose the challenge, but if they _did_ , she hoped Scott would be the one to blame.

Chris got on the loudspeaker and screamed obnoxiously about the next challenge starting. The nine contestants left the mess hall in a cluster, and Jo found herself walking ahead of Cameron and Zoey; for a squirmy little nerd, Cameron sure did talk loudly.

“Brick’s alarm clock, _my_ books,” he fretted. “Who knows what could be stolen next?”

“What do you think we should do about it?” Zoey asked.

“I think we should investigate, so we can find the thief. Can you help me?”

Zoey answered, “I’d love to. It’ll take my mind off Mike.” 

Jo sighed and walked faster. Nothing of _hers_ had been stolen in the past two days, so she couldn't be bothered to care.

* * *

Their next challenge, as it turned out, was located at a catwalk. Jo took a seat beside Dawn in the back row of bleachers. If the catwalk itself was any indication, she wouldn’t enjoy herself this afternoon.

As they waited for Chris to show up and explain everything, Jo glanced over at the Maggots. Zoey and Cameron sat next to each other in the back. Mike sat down in front of Zoey and attempted to talk to her, but whatever he said fell on deaf ears. Brick sat beneath Cameron, unbothered by whatever drama afflicted Zoey and Mike.

 _At this point, they’ll be sending Pointy home next_ , Jo mused. 

A McLean-brand jetpack aided Chris’ entrance onto the catwalk. Chef, dressed in a pink translucent dress, took the jetpack from the white-haired host and exited the stage.

He announced, “Welcome to your challenge: the weird and wild fashion spectacular!”

“Egh, fashion,” Jo gagged. “Waste of time.”

Dawn placed an unwanted hand on her shoulder. “It won’t be that bad, I’m sure.”

“Jeez, Dawn.” Jo shrugged off the smaller girl’s hand. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not-”

Chris’ airhorn cut off Dawn’s protest. “Zip _it_!” he yelled before resuming his plummy monologue. “You won’t be walking the catwalk; no no no no, no amount of fashion can help you people.” 

He giggled and proceeded to explain the details of the challenge. Jo pretty much tuned him out up until the point Lindsay popped out of a suitcase squealing about boots.

“Wow!” Zoey gasped. “We get to dress an actual model.”

Chris nodded. “Right after you _catch_ one.”

Jo raised an eyebrow. “Catch a model? Child’s play. The way they eat, they’ll pass out after three steps!”

The host informed everyone they’d have to catch a wild mutated animal, and then sent them on their merry way. So maybe it wouldn’t be child’s play, but it still was a darn easy task.

The Rats split up—Scott’s idea—and Jo was paired up with Dawn.

“You’re a nature freak, right?” Jo said as they passed by a twelve-foot hermit crab. “Can’t you just talk to the animals and ask if any of them want to model for us?”

“I suppose I could,” Dawn mused. “It’s just a matter of finding the right one.”

As they neared the edge of the forest, Dawn suddenly asked, “Do you really think Scott is the one behind all the item disappearances?”

 _Where did_ that _come from_?

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Jo replied. “It could be anyone.” Although, imagining Cameron or Brick as a kleptomaniac required suspending a _lot_ of disbelief, but that was beside the point.

“But we’d have reason to vote him off if we could prove it,” Dawn pressed. “Scott’s energy is the most negative on the whole team. It’s even worse than yours!”

“Gee, thanks.” Jo watched a mutant rabbit skitter by. “Listen, if we lose, I’m game to vote Scott out. I don’t like him either. But I know for a fact Flower Power and Bubble Boy are playing detective, so I don’t see how other people’s missing junk is my problem.”

“We just need to be strategic,” Dawn suggested. 

“Speaking of strategy…” Jo pointed to a cave situated several yards ahead of them. Sasquatchanakwa himself strolled into the cave. “It’s humanoid, so it wouldn’t be _too_ hard to stuff a t-shirt over its head or something.”

“Good thinking,” Dawn said. “You go find the boys, and I’ll run back to find an outfit.”

They split up, Dawn returning the way they came and Jo meandering into the forest, looking for her teammates. Fortunately, they weren’t hard to find.

“Lightning is _telling_ you we should find an eagle!” Lightning’s voice preceded him by a mile. Jo followed the sound of his big ego. “Eagles are the symbol of sha-victory!”

“No way,” she countered, walking in on the conversation. “The only symbol of victory that matters is the marshmallow. And you won’t _get_ one of those unless you come help Dawn and me dress Sasquatchanakwa.”

“You found the yeti?” Sam scratched his head.

“Yeah.” Jo jerked a thumb in the direction from where she had come. “Dawn’s gonna get clothes for it.”

Sam was slow on the uptake. “How are we supposed to dress the _yeti_? I mean, it’s a _yeti_!” 

“Have you forgotten that Dawn can talk to basically any animal ever?” Jo asked sarcastically. She didn’t know the extent of Dawn’s supernatural powers, but if it got them a win, Jo wouldn’t question it.

“Creepy Girl is gonna lead us to victory!” Lightning hollered.

The present Rats migrated to Sasquatchanakwa’s cave. Dawn appeared a few moments after they arrived, a clutter of garments in her hands.

“I’m ready for the yeti!” she cheered.

Scott pushed her towards the mouth of the cave. “We’ll be out here if you need backup.”

Dawn dismissed him with an “I’m sure I’ll be fine” before disappearing into Sasquatchanakwa’s lair.

“How much do you wanna bet she doesn’t make it out alive?” Jo quipped.

“Twenty dollars,” Lightning replied immediately.

Lightning won the bet when Dawn emerged a few minutes later. “Ta da!”

Sasquatchanakwa trailed behind her, picking at his new clothes.

“You look wonderful!” Dawn gushed, smiling at him.

“Um…” Scott said. 

“Maybe we could ask Dakota for some advice?” Sam suggested meekly. “I could run and get her.”

The loudspeakers crackled. “One minute remaining!”

“We don’t need Miss Millionaire’s help,” Jo decided firmly. “The yeti looks fine, so let’s get back to Chris.”

* * *

They returned to the catwalk in time for the end of the Maggots’ presentation. 

“...her swank new hairdo perfectly complements a vintage 60s gogo dress,” Brick narrated confidently as Zoey, Mike, and Cameron clapped. 

Jo stared at the maggot modeling their clothing. _Boy am I glad I’m not on that team anymore_.

After Chef, Lindsay, and Chris gave their scores, Chris called out for the next model. “Okay, show me what you got, Rats!”

The five Rats stepped out onto the stage. Dawn held Sasquatchanakwa’s hand as he walked down the runway.

“As you can see,” Sam rasped, “the yeti wears a ruffled bohemian frock complete with beaded sleeves.”

The yeti grunted as Sam continued, “His patterned bell-bottom pants highlight his 70s style. The look is completed by thick sunglasses.”

All Jo could say was that she wouldn’t wear the outfit if her life depended on it.

Dawn and Lightning clapped for the yeti. Dakota, who Jo hadn’t noticed until that very moment, gasped.

“Bo- _hemian_?” she cried. “That is _so_ five years ago! Sam, you should’ve asked me for help! I could have prevented this!”

Sasquatchanakwa frowned self-consciously.

“I wanted to, but-”

Waving his fan, Chris cut Sam off. “True, Dakota, the yeti hardly exemplifies the forward-thinking style I was expecting.”

“And beaded sleeves?” Lindsay added. “What was he _thinking_?”

“The other team _also_ did vintage!” Jo argued, the first and last time she’d ever defend a fashion statement.

“Well they did it _better_ ,” Dakota countered, flashing an apologetic look at the Rats’ resident gamer. “Sorry, Sam.”

“Hey! We voted you off!” Scott snapped. “You don’t get a say in anything!”

“Friends, you must stop!” Dawn broke in. “You’re going to upset-”

Sasquatchanakwa’s roar cut her off. In a fit of fury, he snatched up Dakota and a jetpack.

Jo and the rest of the contestants watched as the yeti flew across the water and disappeared into the fog surrounding Boney Island.

“My jetpack!” Chris cried.

“Dakota!” Sam wailed like he’d just lost the final level of his favorite video game.

“This show gets weirder every day,” Jo remarked.

Chris faced the camera crew. “Will Dakota survive? And am I legally liable if she doesn’t? Find out after the break.”

Once that was out of the way, Chris faced the campers. “Alright you guys, everyone please head to the dock. I have a _phone call_ to make.” He whipped out his cell phone.

Sam sniffled as they walked. “I hope Dakota’s okay.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll be _fine_!” Lindsay consoled him.

“Who invited _you_ along?” Jo asked. She hadn’t watched the entirety of the first three Total Drama seasons, but from what she had seen, Lindsay was far from one of her favorite contestants.

“Um, Chris said _everyone_ head to the dock,” Lindsay responded. “That includes me, duh.”

Dawn’s moodiness during the short trek shocked even Jo. “I told you we needed to create positive energy. And now our _negative_ energy has driven the yeti to drastic actions, and Dakota is in danger!”

“You can’t possibly be blaming me,” Scott replied, annoyance scribbled all over his rat-like face. 

“Yeah! The Lightning didn’t do anything wrong either!”

“It’s collectively all our faults,” Dawn said. “Including mine for drawing the yeti into our perverse game in the first place.”

They stopped on the dock and waited for Chris to stop talking to the lawyers. Cameron ambled up beside Jo.

“So,” he said nervously, “have you noticed any of your personal belongings go missing as of late?”

“No.”

“Have _you_ seen anyone else’s missing personal belongings as of late?”

“I didn’t steal anything, Brainiac. I’m here to win, not loot people’s possessions.” As she spoke, she leaned in menacingly, causing Cameron to sink into his shoes. “So get out of my face.”

“What do you _mean_ I’m liable if the yeti eats Dakota?” Chris’s panicked voice interrupted the interrogation. Everyone, Jo included, leaned in to hear more. He added, “It’s not my fault she’s delicious!”

Chris finally noticed everyone staring and ended the call. “For your next challenge,” he improvised, “the two teams will… compete to rescue Dakota! Yup, that’s it.”

 _How cool would it be if this ends with me wrestling a freaking yeti_? Jo wondered as Chris instructed them to grab canoes.

Sam held the green canoe steady while the other Rats piled in. Jo maneuvered her way into the front seat. Lightning sat behind her, then Scott, then Dawn, and finally an exhausted Sam.

“Hut! Hut! Hut!” The Maggots’ canoe passed them, Brick yelling with each stroke of his paddle.

“Shut up!” Jo yelled to him, but either he didn’t hear her, or he ignored her, as he kept up with the yelling.

Scott grumbled, “Way to go picking a yeti for a model, guys.”

“Hey, it was going well until Dakota started trash-talking him!” Jo retorted.

“He’s right, though. We should have been mindful of the yeti’s feelings,” Dawn fretted. 

“Did you guys _see_ that just now?” Sam yelled deliriously.

“See what?” Scott’s verbal response echoed Jo’s internal one. She knew, logically, that Scott should be the next boot. But Sam was just… pathetically useless. He wasn’t even paddling! At least Scott had some semblance of skill.

But hey, hopefully, the Rats would win and it wouldn’t come to a vote between them.

* * *

“Guys! The yeti!” The contestants were a way inland on Boney Island, and Cameron pointed out the obvious.

Jo took in the sight of the yeti sitting on a clifftop, Dakota by his side.

“Okay, like, I’m sorry!” Dakota was telling Sasquatchanakwa. She hesitantly patted its hairy arm. “You’re a really pretty looking, er, yeti. It’s just, I don’t really appreciate outdated trends, but that’s _obviously_ not your fault.” 

The whole situation was unimpressive to Jo. She pursed her lips. How the heck was she supposed to lead the Rats to rescue Dakota?

“What’s with all the scaffolding?” Scott gestured to the four layers of scaffolding standing parallel to the cliff face.

“I’m turning Boney Island into my personal resort!” Chris strolled up, flanked by Lindsay and Chef. “The health department said it was unfit for human life, but I sent in workers anyway.” He paused and looked around. “I wonder where they went.”

_Yeah, Chris is definitely a psychopath._

Jo’s thoughts were interrupted by Dakota yelling down to them.

“Don’t hurt him!” the intern yelled. “He just needs a little boost of self-confidence, that’s all!”

“Wow,” Dawn remarked. “The yeti sounds awfully familiar.”

She stared at her fellow contestants. Zoey looked away.

“Nevermind that. We need to get you”—Jo pointed at Dawn—“up there.” Jo pointed at the yeti.

“Step aside!” Brick barged through and halted at the front of the crowd. He held up a green duffel bag. “It’s time for the detonating duffel bag part two!”

“Detonating duffel bag?” Jo repeated under her breath as Brick tossed the duffel bag at Sasquatchanakwa. The duffel bag _exploded_ in the yeti’s face. When the smoke cleared, it was clad in an obnoxious yellow-and-green ensemble.

Jo’s laughter erupted immediately. Everyone else laughed as well, excluding Brick and Dawn.

“Brick, I said _don’t_ use yellow!” Zoey protested as her giggles died away.

“Uh, maybe we shouldn’t have laughed.” Mike gulped, and everyone watched as the yeti roared in embarrassment. Its stomps shook the ground.

“Dakota!” Sam yelled.

The scaffolding unhinged and fell, landing in a zig-zag pattern.

“Team Rat, listen up!” Lightning hollered. The five of them converged in a group huddle. He explained the plan. “One player on the left”—he pointed at Jo—“one on the right”—he pointed at Scott— “and one in the center.” He pointed at himself. “Gamer Boy, you’re the benchwarmer.”

“But I wanna rescue Dak-”

“Shut it. What about Dawn?” Jo pointed out. “She calmed down Furball earlier. She’s our best bet of rescuing Dakota.”

“Someone could carry me?” Dawn suggested. 

“I’ll do it!” Scott volunteered.

Jo was tempted to fight him for it, considering she did not trust him at all, but time was of the essence, and she let it go.

“Team Rat go!” Lightning crowed. 

Jo, Lightning, and a Dawn-ladden Scott rushed to the bottom of the scaffolding and started climbing. Jo hadn’t lied to Brick that day on Mount Looming Tragedy; her parents _had_ built her a climbing wall playpen, and she was a darn good climber as a result.

Anyways, Jo lasted the longest after yeti started tossing barrels. Immediately, Lightning got hit square in the chest and fell to the ground below.

“Great,” Jo muttered grimly. She kept climbing. Scott was hurrying up the scaffolding.

“Scott, duck!” Dawn said frantically. “Dodge left! Sasquatchanakwa throws to the right!”

“ _What_?” Scott yelled loudly. “I can’t _hear_ you!”

As entertaining as their squabble was, Jo kept climbing until she couldn’t hear them. Scott practically ran straight into the next barrel, which sent both him and Dawn sprawling off the side; they landed on Lightning below.

Jo glared daggers at Sasquatchanakwa. “Hey, you big yeti! Quit harassing my team!”

She was parallel with the third layer of scaffolding when the yeti picked up another barrel and tossed it in her direction. Jo dodged the first one and scooted further up the pole. The second barrel hit her in the face. Stunned by the force, she let go. 

“Ugggh.” Despite the cushion provided by her three other teammates, the fall still hurt like heck. _If I can just lie here for a moment and collect myself, then I can try again in like, two minutes. Or maybe twenty_.

Then she heard Sam say, “Woah, video game world! My ultimate gamer dream come true!”

Jo opened one eye. Sam stared at the scaffolding in front of him, a grin on his face. “It’s all on me now. Let’s do this!”

 _We’re doomed_. She closed one eye.

“Jo! Get up!” Dawn urged her. “We have to encourage Sam! Positive energy, people!”

Jo reluctantly stood up, but instead of watching Sam bungle his rescue attempt, she focused on the Maggots instead. Was Mike applying makeup to Zoey? Curiosity got the better of her, and she strolled over to see what the fuss was about.

“What the _heck_?” Jo gaped. A bunch of products Jo couldn’t name were scrawled on Zoey’s face, but the bottom line was that she looked _awful_. 

“Does it look that bad?” Anxiety bubbled in Zoey’s voice.

“Ya look fine, young whippersnapper!” Oh, so Mike was doing his old man routine. That explained some of it.

“We need Svetlana!” Cameron whimpered, and he followed Zoey and Mike—Chester?—to the bottom of the scaffolding. 

“So that’s your plan, huh?” Jo remarked to Brick. “Send in Zoey to scare the yeti off?”

“Our _intention_ was to lure the yeti away using Zoey as bait,” Brick clarified. “It’s not my fault that Mike decided I was doing a poor job with her makeup and took over the operation.”

They both watched as Mike—Svetlana now, probably—started doing gymnastics at the bottom of the scaffolding. He was an enigma, but he was a talented enigma, and he carried Zoey on his back as he flipped and twirled to the top of the cliff.

“Wait, _you_ were doing Zoey’s makeup?”

“As best I could, anyways.” Brick’s face was red. “If Anne Maria was still here, she would’ve done it better.”

“Eh, neither of you are that good at it in the first place.”

“Hey! It’s not like you’d do any better than Anne Maria or me.” 

“I would too! I could do Red’s face in my _sleep_.” Oops. Jo’s competitive nature had gotten the better of her. Jo hated to admit defeat in any skill, but makeup was definitely where she’d come in dead last.

“Oh _really_?” Brick’s unibrow rose in disbelief. “I’d like to see you try.”

Sasquatchanakwa threw Sam off the side of the cliff.

“Well, uh, yeah. I _would_ , but after Zoey sees what Mike or Chester or whoever did to her, she definitely wouldn’t let me near her face.” 

Svetlana reached the top of the cliff. Zoey started talking to the yeti while the gymnast made a run for Dakota.

“How ‘bout after the challenge is over, I ask her?” Brick suggested. “We could try it out tomorrow.”

Svetlana descended the scaffolding, Dakota in tow. Zoey remained at the top, distracting Sasquatchanakwa.

“Team Maggot wins immunity!” Chris announced, flying in on a second jetpack.

“That is, if you’re still here tomorrow.” Brick patted her on the shoulder and left to join his team’s celebrations. 

Jo’s mouth dropped. Was that _Brick_ who had just made a passive-aggressive comment towards _her_? Brick, the guy who wet his pants and dislocated his limbs every chance he got?

She hadn’t realized he had it in him.

While the Maggots patted themselves on the back, the Rats were more a mess. Dawn and Scott pointedly glared at each other any chance they received. Sam and Dakota, reunited at last, spent the whole returning canoe ride talking to each other. Lightning ranted about how his team was full of losers until Jo had enough of it and swung her paddle right into his kiwis.

“Serves you right,” she muttered as he fell into the shallow water.

 _Who does Lightning blame the most to vote out_? Jo wondered as she walked back to camp. It wasn't her, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternative title I considered was Beauty School Copout, both titles being puns on Grease's "Beauty School Dropout."  
> Also, I've been illustrating some of the scenes in this story, so I'll be inserting artwork sporadically. This was partially inspired by Patwhit's fic Mansion McLean, 'cause illustrations are also included in that fic. I hope that's not too jarring. Catch ya next time!


	4. Marshmallows Are A Girl's Best Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo figures out who's receiving her vote; Chris blindsides the Rats and Maggots with another twist.

“Jo, I need to talk to you.” 

“Can it wait? I’m kinda in the middle of something.” Jo was on the floor, doing pushups, and she glowered at her roommate who had just unkindly ruined her workout.

“Continue, if you must.” Dawn dramatically stared out the window.

“Is this about the vote? ‘Cause I know I said I want to vote out Ratboy, but Mario is also a useless sack of meat who didn’t contribute at all.”

“Jo!” Dawn turned around. “Scott was trying to throw the challenge today. I told him where to run to avoid being hit by the barrels, but he didn’t listen to me.”

“Did you _call_ him on it?”

“Yes, I did. He was unfazed, but I am certain that sabotage is the reason his aura has become so clouded recently.”

Jo shot Dawn an ‘are-you-serious’ look. “You’re definitely reaching.”

“Pardon?”

“Scott purposely throwing himself into a wooden barrel to lose the challenge? Do you even hear yourself, Sweater Weather? Scott’s just an idiot, he probably just misheard you.”

“You can’t seriously believe that!” Dawn’s pale eyes were wide.

Did she? Jo had Scott pegged as a skeaze far inferior to her. And while maybe she wouldn’t put sabotage past him, Dawn’s “evidence” was shaky at best.

“Look, I’ll vote for Scott if it’ll make you feel better,” Jo said gruffly, “but that doesn’t mean I think you’re right.”

“I couldn’t ask you for anything more.” After receiving what she wanted, Dawn’s expression mellowed out. She looked around the room. “Have you seen my trash bag?”

“Nope.” 

Dawn wandered out of the cabin dorm in search of the bag. After a few moments, Jo pulled her hoodie on and followed Dawn outside.

Uncanny was the fact that Scott was leaning against the porch railing, holding Dawn’s bag in his hand. Sam and Lightning sat on the steps of the Rats’ cabin; the Maggots milled about on their side of camp.

“Dawn!” Scott said when Dawn and Jo exited the room. “I found your bag by the confessional.” As he handed it over, the bag slipped from Scott’s hand. Its contents spilled across the porch floor. 

Everyone gasped. Among trash and trinkets, seashells and slugs, lay a variety of familiar objects.

“My protein powder!” Lightning swiped the jar immediately. “I’ve _missed_ you!”

“Brick’s alarm clock!” Jo said, pointing to the offending object. “Cameron’s lame-o textbooks!”

Scott gasped. “My lucky shark tooth!”

“My game guy!” Sam’s grimy hands were all over the electronic in a flash. He ran inside to continue playing the game.

The Maggots, drawn to the commotion like flies to light, came over to the cabin.

“Dawn!” Brick picked up his alarm clock, and an expression of pained understanding settled on his face. “You’re a _thief_?”

“No!” Dawn gasped. “Friends, you must listen to me. I was framed!”

Cameron adjusted his glasses. “None of my hypotheses involved _this_ conclusion!”

“Lightning _knew_ there was a reason you were always acting creepy!” Lightning poked an accusatory finger at Dawn. “And now he knows it’s cause you’re a sha-stealer!” Without waiting for an answer, he stormed into the boys’ dorm. Even the Maggots, after shooting looks of pity and disgust at Dawn, disbanded. The only three left on the porch were Scott, Jo, and the accused.

Scott bent to pick up his lucky shark tooth. “Well I’m sure glad to finally have my tooth back,” he crooned. With a wicked smile, he added, “See you at elimination, Dawn.”

When Scott had strutted off, Dawn wilted.

“Doin’ okay there, Psych Major?” Jo quipped sarcastically.

“Do you believe me, Jo?” Dawn asked. She stooped to gather her belongings back into the trash bag.

“Uh, sure.” Maybe Dawn was a really good actor and she _was_ guilty. But also, maybe she had been framed by Scott after all. But _also_ , better Dawn than Jo getting hurled, right? Despite this, Jo offered a sliver of hope to Dawn.

“Maybe if you can find the invincibility statue before the ceremony, you can prevent your elimination.”

Dawn’s eyes lit up. “You’re full of good ideas, Jo.”

“...Thanks?”

The petite blonde finished refilling her trash bag. “Use that ingenuity for good.”

Jo rolled her eyes, and when she glanced in Dawn’s direction again, she was gone. “...I hate it when she does that.”

* * *

After an awkward dinner that consisted of Sam proclaiming his “mojo” had been “restored” now that he had his game guy back, Scott and Lightning making quips at Dawn’s expense, and the subject of their ire sitting in isolation at the very end of the table, the Rats headed off to vote. Jo cast her ballot third, after Sam and Scott.

“I’m voting for Scott,” she informed the camera as she marked off a photo of the aforementioned farmboy. “I’d rather have Dawn around than this creeper. She’s doomed either way, but it’s the principle of the thing, ya know?"

When that was over with, Jo sat down in the front row of stumps, Scott on her left side and Cameron on her right—wait, Cameron?

“What are _you_ doing here?” Jo asked him and, by extension, the other three members of the Mutant Maggots; Zoey and Mike in the back row, Brick beside Cameron in the front.

“Chris asked us to come,” Cameron replied. Dawn walked past, trash bag in hand, and sat at the far end of the first row.

By Jo’s standards, Cam’s response was unsatisfactory. “Okay, but why?” 

“I don’t know. Chris never tells us his agenda!”

He had a point. 

After Lightning finished voting and sat down behind Scott, Chris himself arrived on the scene. Chef stood behind him, holding the Toxic Marshmallow of Loserdom.

“Well _that_ was a complete fiasco,” Chris said. “Dawn, you got caught red-handed _stealing_ from people.” Dawn pursed her lips.

“Sam,” Chris continued, “you totally dropped the barrel on this one.” Sam chuckled in embarrassment, and Chris turned his gaze to the team’s resident ginger.

“Scott, some people just don’t like you. One of the Rats is going home tonight. But it’s not gonna be Lightning _or_ Jo.” He tossed two marshmallows to both jocks.

“Yes,” Jo hissed gleefully, catching the marshmallow. After the way her _last_ campfire ceremony had gone down, she was definitely not taking those things for granted.

“Sam,” Chris said carefully, “you are also safe.”

The gamer caught the marshmallow between his teeth, as his hands were occupied playing the device he had retrieved from Dawn’s trash bag. Chef swooped in and plucked the game right out of his hands.

“Hey!” Sam protested. “That was my very last game!”

Chris narrowed his eyes. “ _Ahem_. We have more _important_ matters to attend to. Now then, the Toxic Marshmallow of Loserdom goes to…”

Chef used tongs to hold up the glowing marshmallow. Dawn and Scott glared at each other, and Chris simply grinned silently, drawing the tension out. Jo didn't see why he bothered, the loser tonight was obviously gonna be—

“...Dawn.”

Chef tossed the marshmallow her way. It bounced off her trash bag and sunk into the ground.

“I’m not done here yet!” Dawn cried, reaching into her trash bag and pulling out a wooden totem. “For I have found the McLean Invincibility Statue!”

Jo gasped, as did Lightning, Sam, and the Maggots. _Dawn actually found it? … Dang. It’s uglier than I remember._

Chris was unimpressed. “Where’s the McLean brand seal of approval?”

Dawn’s face fell in confusion. “Seal of approval...?”

Scott clucked like a chicken. “Sorry, Fairy Princess, you must have found one of my knockoffs. I do love me some whittlin’!”

“Scott!” Dawn turned on him. “I knew you were—”

Chef yanked her trash bag from her hands and stuffed Dawn inside it. The bag muffled the rest of Dawn’s outcry.

“Thank you, Chef,” Chris said as the hulking man left to deposit Dawn at the Hurl of Shame. “Now for something very special. I bet the Mutant Maggots are wondering why I called them here, hmm?”

He didn’t wait for a response. “I’ll need a _strong_ volunteer from each team.”

“Right here!” Jo jumped out of her seat before Scott or Lightning could steal her spot.

“Really, Jo? Reeeeallly?” Chris drawled. “Are you sure you can’t let someone else do it?”

“No way!” Jo responded indignantly. “What, are we arm wrestling and you’re worried I’m gonna break someone’s wrist?”

Chris sighed. “Have it your way. Maggots, who’s _your_ tribute?”

Noticeably, Cameron was rubbing his wrist nervously. The four Maggots drew together in a huddle. At one point, Mike cried, “No! Not me!” 

“You are wasting my _precious_ time right now,” Chris snapped.

“Just give us a few more seconds,” Zoey pleaded, looking up from the team huddle.

“No,” Chris decided. “I gave you time, and you wasted it by _talking_ to each other.”

“We were trying to decide who should volunteer!” Cameron protested.

“Yeah, whatever,” Chris said. “I’m gonna pick _for_ you. And I think I’ll pick…” He surveyed the Maggots. 

“...Cameron.” 

_I hope we_ are _arm wrestling, just so I can crush this kid_ , Jo thought, sizing up Stringbean.

“Pack your bags!” Chris said cheerfully. Jo’s eyebrows shot up, as did Cameron’s.

Zoey gasped. “You’re hurling _them_ too?”

“I don’t give people time to pack before they get hurled! These two are _switching teams_.”

“You mean I’m on the Maggots _again_?” Jo cried angrily.

“Hey, I gave you a chance to take it back,” Chris said. “All decisions are now final.”

Whatever. She’d deal. 

She set her anger aside and flashed a chilling smirked at Cameron as they swapped seats. He flinched as if she had physically hit him.

“Hi Jo.” Zoey’s smile wavered. Mike waved nervously, and Brick extended a hand. 

“Welcome to the Maggots,” he said cordially. “Good to have you back.”

 _Oh, that’s rich, considering the 'if you're still around' crap you said earlier._ Someone needed to put Brick in his place.

She took his hand, but instead of shaking, she squeezed it until he whimpered.

“Good to _be_ back,” she growled.

Jo ignored Brick’s wounded-puppy look; now that she was back on the friendship-loving Maggots, she needed to take advantage of every display of force she could.

“Now that that’s all settled,” Chris said, “I’m gonna hurl Dawn! Anyone wanna come?”

“I would have considered it if she wasn’t a thief,” Sam said.

Chris accepted Sam’s answer as the group’s collective attitude. “Suit yourselves. See ya tomorrow.”

Jo contemplated seeing Dawn off, just because she was the only other person who disliked Scott as much as Jo did. But she needed to switch rooms, _again_ , and that needed to be done as soon as possible. She left with the rest of the campers; once again, Jo found herself walking in front of Mike and a very loud Cameron.

“I just don’t understand,” Cam told Mike. “Dawn seemed so nice!”

“Yeah. I thought it would’ve been Scott.”

“But Scott’s lucky shark tooth was also stolen,” Cameron pointed out. “My most viable theory pegged Jo as the kleptomaniac.”

“As if!” Jo spun around to address Cameron’s accusation. “Why would I want your dumb textbooks or Sam’s game guy? I didn’t even know Scott _had_ a lucky shark tooth!”

“Lay off him.” Mike eyed her warily. “We know it wasn’t you. Cam was just thinking out loud.”

“Still, something doesn’t sit right with me,” Cameron mumbled. “ _Dawn_ of all people?”

“Whatever. See you losers tomorrow.”

Jo broke into a jog, in part because she didn’t want to stick around for the rest of Cameron’s dumb theorizing, and in part because she wanted to get settled into the Maggots’ dorm before Zoey returned.

Dawn’s belongings were still in the Rats’ cabin when Jo returned. When exactly did booted contestants get their stuff back? Did they _ever_ get their stuff back? It wasn’t a problem Jo intended to deal with since she was going to _win_ , but the question nagged her nonetheless.

 _Maybe Chris gives away the clothes to the mutants on the island_ , Jo thought as she shoved sweatpants into her duffel bag. The process felt familiar; the only difference this time was the lack of an audience.

Jo left the Rats’ cabin right as everyone else returned from the campfire ceremony. Cameron was whispering to Mike; Lightning was kissing his biceps; Scott’s hands were in his pockets as he whistled, unbothered; Zoey and Brick were leaned in, talking. 

Hey, since when were Zoey and Brick friends? What could _they_ have to talk about?

In the seconds it took her to climb the stairs of the Maggots’ cabin, Jo realized she had to do the unavoidable. If she wanted any chance of making it to the merge without being voted out by her teammates, she needed context. She needed to know what had transpired while she was on the Rats. She needed to _talk to Zoey_. 

“Goodnight, Brick,” Zoey said as the duo arrived at the Maggots’ cabin. Zoey came to a halt beside Jo.

“Goodnight, Zoey,” Brick answered, ever the gentleman. He glanced at Jo. “You too, Jo.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

Brick disappeared into the boys’ side of the cabin. Zoey pushed the girls’ door open, and Jo followed her inside.

“So I guess I get my old bed back?” Jo gestured to the unused bunk bed on the left side of the cabin.

“Yeah. Unless you want one of the top bunks, in which case you can have them,” Zoey answered. “Anything you want.”

“Right.” Jo began unpacking her belongings. She took a deep breath to steel herself for what she was about to do, then she asked, “So. How have things been with Pointy?”

Zoey launched into a monologue. Sitting on her bunk, Jo half-listened as she got ready for bed. “For the past couple of days, I mostly tried to hang out with Cam and Brick, partly ‘cause of what you said yesterday. About Mike not being worth my time, right? And at least _Cam and Brick_ weren’t shoving their tongues down Anne Maria’s throat like _Mike or_ _Vito_ was.”

The mental image of either Brick or Cameron making out with Anne Maria resulted in Jo suppressing the urge to vomit. “Dang. So things aren’t so good with you guys?”

“Here’s the thing, though. They got better after we voted Anne Maria off,” Zoey admitted. “Mike was really helpful in getting me to the top of the cliff today. And I dunno, whenever we touch, it feels like there’s a spark, y’know?”

Jo did not know, nor did she care to know. “So which is it? Are you guys friends or not?”

Zoey untucked her pigtails. “I don’t want to stress over it. You were right, this is a reality show, even if I signed up to make friends, not for the money.”

 _That makes one of us_. Jo was here for the money, and the money only.

“But I can’t just dismiss my feelings for Mike, can I? Would that be justified? Would he hate me for it?”

Jo was beginning to regret ever bringing up the topic, so she opted for transparency. “Would you vote for Mike if it came down to it? Like, if he cost us the challenge or something?”

Zoey frowned. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t want him to leave the island without every clearing up what’s between us. Is that selfish?”

“How should _I_ know?” Jo threw a pillow over her face. Zoey and Mike had voted her out before; if they were unwilling to vote for each other because of some sappy feelings, what’s to say they wouldn’t do it again?

Before Zoey could keep talking, Jo said, “Listen, Flower Power, how ‘bout we talk about this in the morning? You can fill me in on all the Maggoty drama tomorrow if you want, but for now, I want some shut-eye.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Zoey got into bed as well. She propped herself up on one elbow and faced Jo. “You know, you’re not so bad to talk to.”

“Ah huh.” That was definitely false, considering Jo was only talking to Zoey in the hopes of saving her own butt from elimination. 

“Thanks for listening. I mean it. I don’t usually talk to jocks, but, well, I guess I don’t have a choice.”

“ _G’night_ , Red.” Jo rolled over, hoping Zoey would get the hint and stop talking. 

“You too.

“Oh, one more thing!”

Jo opened one eye. “What?”

“I was thinking we could do the makeup contest tomorrow? Before breakfast?”

“Did Brickhead tell you about that?” Jo groaned. She lied through her teeth: “Well, I can’t turn down a challenge I know I’ll beat him at, so yeah. Before breakfast.”

“Cool.” Zoey snuggled into bed and said no more for the night.

Jo stared at the mattress above her for a little while longer; the cogs turned in her brain. There was Scott to consider, Brick to account for, Zoey and Mike to contemplate, and the wild cards Lightning and Sam to ponder.

She had to hand it to Chris. When he switched up teams, he sure knew how to switch ‘em good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jo switching back to the Maggots?! Seems contrived, and maybe it is, but hey, no way would she let Scott or Lightning volunteer in her place. As for Cameron... okay, that also seems contrived, but I have my reasons (and it could also be seen as a nod to All Stars).  
> I'm sad to see Dawn go, but at least she's made a lasting impact on Jo, and therefore the rest of the game.


	5. Mine-d Your Own Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Jo and Brick ruin Zoey's face, the teams venture into the "abandoned" mines. Mike reveals a new personality, and Jo makes a split-second decision.

“Okay, here’s everything you might need.” Zoey gestured to the assortment of tubes, bottles, and compacts laid out in front of her.

Jo stared, at a loss. “Do you put _all_ this stuff on your face every single day?”

“Since we’re on the island, I’ve been doing the bare minimum,” Zoey explained. “Just some concealer, eyeshadow, lipstick.”

“So then why all this?”

“I brought my whole makeup bag with me. Just in case. And good thing, too, ‘cause it helped us win the challenge yesterday.”

Jo pursed her lips. “Don’t remind me.”

“Now that there’s no challenge to worry about,” Brick broke in, “I doubt this’ll be too hard.”

Brick sat beside Jo on the floor of the girls’ dorm. A barricade of makeup products separated them from Zoey, their next fashion victim. “You can each do half of my face,” Zoey explained. “And Mike can judge when you’re done. Is that cool, Mike?”

“Yeah.” The fourth member of their team watched quietly from the top bunk of Zoey’s bed. With a sheepish grin, he added, “But it’ll be hard to pick, since both sides of your face are so pretty.”

Zoey chuckled shyly, her face coloring. “Thanks, Mike.”

Jo and Brick just looked at each other with twin expressions of ‘what’. She wasn’t sure which was more disconcerting: Mike’s weird flirting, or the fact she had to follow through with this makeup challenge at all. She could’ve done, like, three hundred jumping jacks by now. 

“Well if you don’t have any objections, go ahead and get started,” Zoey said.

“Affirmative!” Brick dove in with no hesitation, picking up products and reading the labels to familiarize himself with what was what. 

Jo watched him work for a few brief seconds. It was obvious Brick wasn’t completely confident in his choices, but he was more confident than Jo was, and that sucked.

This couldn’t be too hard to figure out, right? Jo’d seen movies, commercials, her little sister—not that she’d ever paid attention, but hey, maybe some of that girly frou-frou stuff had embedded itself into her subconscious? Gah, that was a Dawn-like thing to think.

“Uh, Jo?” Zoey kept her face still as Brick worked. “Are you gonna start? Do you need help?”

“I’m fine, Red,” Jo scoffed. “I’m just formulating a game plan, no biggie.”

At random, Jo selected a thin tube and uncapped it.

“This is literally just a marker,” she deadpanned.

Zoey stifled a snicker. “No, that’s an eyeliner pen.”

“Yeah, no. It’s a marker. Where’s the colored stuff you put on your eyelids?”

“ _Eyeshadow_?” Zoey clarified. She motioned to her right. “The palettes are over here.”

Jo picked up the closest one and examined it. The shadows were on the cool side, including purples, blues, and magentas.

This would do, Jo decided. As long as she had free reign over half of Zoey’s face, she’d go for a hardcore, no-nonsense look. Honestly, Zoey needed it.

She shoved a brush into the darkest shade, a navy blue labeled ‘Nirvana.’ 

“Close your eyes,” Jo demanded. After Zoey did so, she harshly wiped the blue pigment across Zoey’s left eyelid. 

“Ow!” Zoey flinched.

“Be careful!” Brick scolded Jo. “You’re gonna hurt Zoey, _and_ mess up my contour!”

“Your _what_?” 

“Contour,” Mike interjected in an attempt to be relevant. “It’s when you create the illusion of—”

“No one cares, Hedgehog Hair,” Jo interrupted as she swiped a purple color—’Urbanism’—over the blue. She had no clue what she was doing, but ‘fake it ‘till you make it’ was a tried and true strategy. “Who named these colors, anyways? ‘Fiction?’ ‘Sanctuary?’”

“The names are usually themed,” Zoey said, her eyes still shut, “but ultimately arbitrary.”

“This whole process is arbitrary.” Jo dumped some magenta shadow on top of the blue and purple. She attempted to glance over at Brick’s work, but he poked her.

“No peeking!”

Jo grumbled and continued adding random colors onto Zoey’s eyelid. Red, blue, magenta, more blue, mauve. The sparkly shades remained untouched; glitter was decidedly uncool.

When the palette had outlived its usefulness, Jo traded it for the eyeliner pen and went to town outlining Zoey’s eyelid. 

Mike’s nervous chuckles provided a soundtrack to the whole experience. The eye completed, Jo reached for a lipstick—she knew what that was, at least—and her elbow jostled Brick’s.

“Watch it!” they said in unison.

“Are you guys done?” Zoey asked. “Can I open my eyes?” 

“No, but you can shut your mouth.” Out of Zoey’s array of red lipsticks, Jo chose the darkest color, the one that would make her look less like a Disney princess and more like a heavy metal rockstar. She not-so-carefully traced the outline of Zoey’s lips, then leaned back so Brick could do the same thing on the right side, albeit with a brighter shade of lipstick.

“Mission accomplished!” Brick said proudly.

Jo added, “Yeah, I’m done too.”

Brick had done a nice job on Zoey’s right side. Her cheeks appeared flushed, her eyes were lidded with neutral shades and winged eyeliner, and her lipstick was an orange-red that drew the look together.

And Jo was gonna be honest with herself: the left side of Zoey’s face looked as if she had lost a street fight. Which was pretty cool, kinda, but probably wouldn’t earn Jo points with Mike.

“Mike, how do I look?” She twisted in his direction.

Hesitation preceded Mike’s answer. “You look great, Zoey.”

“Do I? I’m not gonna look until you declare a winner.”

“Oh.” Mike bit his lip. “Um…”

 _He knows if he picks Brick, I’m gonna beat him up_ , Jo figured. And as much as she reveled in causing Mike’s inner turmoil, she had breakfast to get to.

“Hurry up, Skinny Arms,” she demanded.

“I think Brick’s the winner,” Mike decided, wincing. 

“Woo hoo!” Brick cheered, pumping both fists in the air victoriously. Jo scowled.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Jo folded her arms. “This doesn’t change anything.” 

Zoey finally opened up a compact to view her reflection. Her mouth dropped open.

“You did a good job, Brick! Jo… um, you made me look like a raccoon. No offense, though.”

“It’s _hardcore_ ,” Jo insisted. “Not that you would understand that.”

“Aw, don’t be a sore loser,” Brick said cheerfully.

“It doesn’t look _that_ bad?” Zoey tilted her head, trying to find an angle where the raccoon-ness lessened.

“Now that that’s settled, what say we have breakfast?” Brick stood up. Zoey and Jo followed suit; Mike hopped off the bunk bed.

“Hey Jarhead, I’ll race you to the food.” A race would definitely salvage Jo’s dignity.

“Yes, ma’am!”

The two of them were out the door immediately, leaving Mike and Zoey in the dust. Considering the mess hall was literally twenty feet away, the race ended almost as soon as it had begun. Winner: Jo.

“Easy win,” she said as she opened the mess hall door. “Now that I’ve won in something that actually _matters_ , I can enjoy my food.”

“Commendable effort, ma’am,” Brick said.

The Rats had reached the mess hall already; all four boys stared at Jo and Brick as they walked in.

“What’s up, former team? Where’s the food?”

“Uh, we don’t know,” Cameron said meekly. “Chef’s not here, and neither is breakfast.”

Lightning fretted. “This is a sha-disaster! How am I supposed to stay in shape without my meat?”

“What’s going on?” Zoey and Mike appeared in the doorway.

Since the Rats were too busy staring at Zoey’s face, Brick filled her in. “Chef and the food are AWOL, ma’am.”

“Meat!” Lightning continued, ignoring the interruption. M-E-uh, E—”

“Yeah whatever, Jockstrap.” Jo cut him off. “No way is _all_ the food gone. Let’s go find some.”

The eight contestants barged into the kitchen. Jo checked the cupboards beneath the sink, but her search fell short, as did everyone else’s.

“Sha-bingo!” Lightning yelled. Jo looked up; he stood in the walk-in freezer, a few feet away, hugging a slab of meat. “Meatsicle!”

Jo and the others hustled to join him in the cold room. As soon as Cameron’s scrawny butt was inside, the door behind them slammed shut.

 _Oh great_. The freezer moved underneath their feet, and Jo put a hand against the metal wall for stability.

“Hey!” Lightning yelled indignantly.

A partition opened, and Chef’s beady eyes glared through. “Challenge time, suckas!”

“Where are you taking us?” Zoey demanded.

“You’ll see.” Chef sneered and closed the partition, except it got stuck on his thumb and he howled in pain.

Jo chuckled.

“So any bets on what today’s challenge is?” Sam fidgeted nervously.

“Probably a meat-eating competition!” Lightning suggested. 

“Bring it on,” Jo said, even though she highly doubted it was a meat-eating competition.

Sam reached into his pant pocket and sighed when his hand came up short.

“Are you in withdrawal?” Cam asked.

Sam nodded glumly. “Yeah. This has been the longest thirteen hours of my life.”

Jo leaned over to Brick and stage whispered, “Now that the two nerdlings are on one team, winning is gonna be a piece of cake!”

Brick was unamused. “Cameron is a competent competitor, and I have no doubt Sam is as well!”

“Right. Forgot you actually like associating with losers.” 

“If we’re all losers in your books, you were associating with losers just fine this morning,” Brick pointed out.

“That was only for a competition,” Jo huffed under her breath.

“Are you two alright over there?” Across from them, Scott raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Yes, sir!” Brick took his hand off the wall to salute Scott; the truck ran over a bump and he fell on the floor. 

“Yeah, Shark Bait, we’re good.”

“Jo, we might not be _teammates_ anymore,” Scott drawled, “but I’ve got your back if you ever need my help.”

“Thanks, but you’re gonna have to try a _little_ bit harder if you want to manipulate _me_.”

“Manipulate?” Scott looked shocked. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Just watch your back,” Jo warned him. Dawn’s influence lingered after her departure. It wasn’t Jo’s job to figure out Scott’s, but she definitely agreed with Psych Major: the farm boy was more than he seemed.

But what to do about it? If Scott was sabotaging his own teammates, that now benefited her. Honestly, if Sam, Cam, or even Lightning got booted thanks to Scott’s meddling, Jo wouldn’t be complaining.

The rumble of the truck’s wheels dissipated, and the back door opened.

“I think we’re here!” Mike whispered excitedly.

Before anyone could react, the floor tilted underfoot. All eight screaming contestants slid out of the truck and into a tangled mess on the ground. 

Jo shoved Mike and Sam off herself and stood up. A portable TV stood next to the entrance of a very gross-looking mine. On the TV’s screen was a very gross-looking host.

Chris surmised the seemingly simple challenge—find a gold statue in the mine, be the first team back. Instant immunity.

“Sha-done and done.” Lightning smirked confidently. “Go Team Dude!”

He high-fived Scott. Sam and Cameron tried to join in the guy-fest, but Lightning pushed them away.

“Great,” Jo said. “I’m going into a deep, dark mine with the pants-wet— _oof_!” A heavy weight slammed her into the ground.

When her head stopped spinning, she figured out what had assaulted her: an ugly orange backpack.

“Don’t worry,” Chris said as if anyone was actually concerned. “There are enough packs for everyone.”

Chef chucked backpacks at the other campers. Everyone caught their pack, except Cameron, who struggled like the wimp he was.

“What’d you put in them?” Jo asked, reaching to undo the velcro ties. “Rocks?”

“Up-bup-bup-bup! No peeking,” Chris teased, infuriating Jo even more. “Those fifty-pound bags are purely for your torment and _my_ amusement. _Enjoy_!”

Only _fifty pounds? I can bench press triple that, no sweat_. Jo slid the pack over her shoulders and stood up.

Sam pulled a watch-like device out of his backpack’s side pocket. “Woah, what is this? Can you play video games on it?” He tapped on it uselessly.

“That’s a chemical badge!” Cameron held out one of his own. “Why do we need to measure our exposure to toxic waste?”

Chris launched into a long explanation about how even though there was tons of radioactivity in the cave system, they probably wouldn’t die as long as they were out within thirty minutes. “I sent Dakota down there for forty minutes, and she’s gonna be fine…”

“Dakota?” That snapped Sam out of his haze. “Where is she?”

“Medical tent,” Chris responded dismissively. “Now get moving!”

Zoey asked for a hint, causing Chris to drop his next bombshell. “Funny story. The statues have gone missing. Someone or some _thing_ down there must have taken them.”

“Is it well lit down there?” Brick stammered. Jo glared at him, decidedly not looking forward to babysitting him.

“It’s a mine, bro,” Chris said. “Pitch black! There are flashlights and fireflies inside. First come, first serve.” 

“Anything _else_ we need to know?” Jo griped. 

“Nope! Now get in there and get the statues!” Chris cheered. No sooner had he finished speaking then Lightning ran into the cave.

“Lightning, wait up!” Cameron called as the Toxic Rats followed him in.

“Great, now we’re in last place!” Jo yelled. “Some team.”

Right as they entered the cave mouth, Lightning screamed “Sha-yeah!” and a pile of rocks crushed Team Rat.

“Cameron!” Mike yelled. 

“We have to help them!” Zoey immediately started digging through the rubble. Lightning’s dazed, scraped head popped up.

The challenge had barely started and Jo was already gonna have an aneurysm. “Are you two _demented_? We’re gonna lose our lead!”

“They have a point,” Brick said from beside her. “I’m not sure Cameron in particular will fare well after a cave-in like that.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, soldier, Cameron isn’t in your platoon anymore!” Jo shot back. “He is now the enemy!”

Scott’s head appeared next to Lightning’s. The ginger coughed out, “We’ll be _fine_. Don’t bother waiting for us.”

“Huh?” His comment took Zoey aback. “Wouldn’t you want us to—”

“You heard the man! We move out now!” Jo grabbed Zoey’s wrist in one hand and Brick’s in the other and dragged them to the elevator shaft, trusting Mike would follow. He did.

“Flashlights!” Jo picked them up off the floor. 

The elevator shook ominously. In the next moment, it plummeted down into the darkness. The Maggots screamed the entire fall, but none louder than Brick.

 _Note to self: tell confessional later that I was_ not _scared of a fifty-foot drop into oblivion._

After the crash, Zoey spoke first. “Is everyone okay?”

“I think so?” Mike.

“Light? _Light_? Where are the flashlights?”

“Calm _down_ , Soggy McGhee, I have them right here.” Jo felt around in the dark until she located one and flipped the switch.

“‘Kay, we’re all here.” She got to her feet, picked up the second flashlight, and tossed it to the member of their team who was most likely to cry himself to sleep without a light. “Let’s get moving.”

“There’s a tunnel.” Mike pointed to the left. “We should follow it!”

Jo took off in the direction he had picked out, the rest of her team on her tail.

After two minutes, Mike asked, “Can we stop running? My legs are getting sore.”

She considered chewing him out for being such a lightweight, but then she remembered Scott and changed her mind. “Sure, Pointy. We can take a breather.”

“You’re not gonna yell at us about winning or slacking off?” Brick asked in disbelief.

“What can I say?” Jo shrugged. “I know the Rats. We could leave right now and they’d _still_ find a way to lose.”

“Why?” Zoey raised an eyebrow. “Is that another thinly veiled insult to Cameron?”

“No? Why do you care so much?” Jo swung her flashlight in Zoey’s direction. “Jeez, at this rate, I’d assume you were in love with Stringbean, not Hedgehog Hair.”

Zoey’s face turned tomato red. “Jo!”

Mike’s also shone red, but the conversation was forgotten when he said, “Look! A fedora!” Jo shined her light on the offending hat. 

_Why is there a random hat in the middle of this mine_?

“My favorite action hero used to wear a hat like this; I’ve always wanted to try it out.” Mike settled the hat on his head; a peculiar expression crossed his face and he gasped for air the way he did whenever Vito or Svetlana or Chester came out.

“Svetlana, is that you?” Jo grinned. Svetlana’s stellar gymnastic abilities made her pretty okay in Jo’s book.

“G’day, sheila. Name’s Manitoba Smith!” Mike’s voice had taken a distinctly Australian accent.

“They talk like that in Manitoba?” Zoey asked Brick, confused.

“Leave the torches to the menfolk, lady.” Manitoba swiped Jo’s flashlight before she could stop him.

“Hey! That’s mine!” she griped.

“At least he knows you’re a lady,” Brick joked as they watched Manitoba lick some dirt.

Jo reached over and turned off his flashlight. “At least he isn’t scared of the _dark_.” 

“Ah!” Brick frantically pressed the flashlight button until the light turned on again.

Manitoba stood up. “There’s minecart tracks on the left path. To the right, tunnels carved out by giant rodents.”

Jo barely had time to process ‘giant rodents’ before Manitoba added, “We go left.”

They didn’t need to walk very far to find two carts coupled together.

Manitoba’s smirk broadened. “Alrighty, sheilas”—Brick frowned—”let’s get in the carts, eh?”

Manitoba hopped into the first cart. While Jo normally would be the first to call shotgun, Mike’s latest character rubbed her the wrong way. She took the back cart, and Brick climbed in beside her. Zoey partnered up with Manitoba.

“Yee haw!” He leaned over and brushed away a few rocks. The wheels squeaked as the carts gained speed, taking the Maggots deeper into the mine.

“Not gonna lie,” Jo commented after a few seconds of motion. “This is _pretty_ cool.”

“Aside from the darkness? Yeah, I’d have to agree.” Brick’s eyes darted around anxiously.

 _Beep._ Jo glanced down at the chemical badge on her arm. “Uh, _guys_?”

Zoey and Manitoba glanced back.

She held up her arm, showing off the orange triangle. “Fifteen-minute warning!”

Brick was practically hyperventilating at this point. Jo considered knocking him unconscious so he’d shut up, but also she didn’t want to be stuck carrying him for the rest of the challenge.

“Alright, lassies,” Manitoba said, “the important thing is that we keep our eyes open and stick together.”

The carts’ coupling chose that moment to conveniently come undone.

“Newsflash, Indiana Idiot, that won’t work!”

Manitoba turned around. “Crickey!” He glared at Jo, whose cart now ran parallel with Manitoba’s. “What did I just say?”

The tunnel fed into a spacious cavern. Manitoba and Zoey’s track curved downward. They quickly disappeared out of sight. 

Jo had other worries, though. Namely: Her own track ended in fifty feet.

“Aaaah!” Brick shrieked. He hugged Jo like she was a stuffed toy. In an adrenaline-induced haze, she hugged him back.

“I’m too young to die!” she screamed. The cart flew off the track. Jo’s stomach dropped as they plunged into the darkness below.

The next thing Jo knew, she was underwater. She swam up—or at least what she _hoped_ was up—and broke the surface. Without a flashlight, she could barely see. Where _was_ the flashlight? Where was Brick? 

“Brick? _Brick_?” 

He surfaced moments later. Panicked, he called for her. “Jo?”

“I’m right here, you dolt,” she replied. “Do you have the flashlight?”

“Uh, affirmative.” He turned it on. The light reflected off the water ripples, lightning up the cavern. 

They stared at each other for a few moments, and then Jo remembered exactly who she was treading water with. She kicked back, distancing herself from her companion. 

“Do _not_ piss your pants Brick! I mean it!”

“Stop making assumptions!” Brick yelled.

“I know you’ve done it before! Don’t do it now!”

“I did not!”

“Yes you did!” 

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Negative!”

Jo’s legs were getting tired. “Okay, we need to stop screaming at each other.” Still treading water, Jo looked around for a way out of the lake. “Did they teach you anything about cave systems at basic training?”

“No, ma’am.” Though he was still freaked out, talking about cadet training calmed Brick down considerably. “But we should continue in the direction we were headed. Manitoba will probably enact the same strategy.”

“ _Which_ way were we going?”

Brick pointed to his right. It seemed arbitrary to Jo, but she didn’t have any better ideas. They swam to shore and headed down the nearest tunnel without waiting to dry.

“Do you _still_ think we’re gonna emerge victorious over the Rats?” Brick asked as they ran. 

“Probably,” Jo answered. “Scott…” She hesitated but didn’t have the time to consider the consequences of revealing her suspicions to Brick.

“Dawn thought Scott was purposely throwing the challenges so the Rats would lose.”

“No offense, but why would you trust Dawn? She’s a thief!”

“Who are you, Lightning? Only an idiot would think Dawn actually stole that junk. She probably got framed. Scott wanted her gone because she’d caught on to his scheming.”

“If that’s true, it’s _very_ devious,” Brick said. “Didn’t know Scott was such a Benedict Arnold.”

“Hey, if it keeps me in the game, I’m making my peace with it,” Jo answered. “At least until the merge.”

A familiar shrill scream caused Brick and Jo both to stop running. They shared a glance and spoke in unison.

“Cameron.”

“We’re headed in the right direction. We have to hurry!” Brick charged off, and Jo followed him.

As they ran, Jo’s badge recolored from orange to red.

“Five-minute warning!” she yelled just in time for Brick’s to go red as well. “Pick up the pace, soldier!”

“Sir, yes sir!”

Fifteen seconds later, they arrived at their destination, and _oh boy_ was there a lot to take in. Bones and waste barrels littered the cavern. Four mutant gophers huddled in a circle; Scott, Lightning, Sam, and Cameron _dangled from their mouths_. In the center of the cavern was a throne, and on the throne— 

“Brick! The statues!” Jo pointed at the golden Chris lookalikes sitting on the throne.

A giant mutant gopher scurried up to them, its footsteps shaking the ground.

“G’day, sheilas! Nice of ya to drop by.” Manitoba sat on top of the gopher accompanied by Zoey, who held onto his waist.

“How are you _riding_ that thing?” Brick yelped.

“Who cares? Just get the statue, Brickhead!” Jo commanded.

At that moment, Scott punched his gopher in the face. It squealed and dropped him; the commotion set off the other gophers, including the one mounted by Manitoba and Zoey. The gopher reared and shrugged both its riders off. 

“Zoey? What’s going on?” The hat fell off; Mike was back.

“We’re about to _win_ ,” Jo snapped, running past him. “Get to those minecarts on the other side of the cavern!”

“Aaaah!” Brick screamed.

 _For Pete’s sake, what now_? Jo looked over. Brick was fighting with a tiny green gremlin who also had a vested interest in the statue. 

“Ezekiel?” Zoey yelled.

With Ezekiel preoccupied Brick, Lightning was free to run up and take the Rats’ statue. “Sha-score!”

“Someone stop him!” Jo yelled.

“If you can hear this, congrats! You’re not dead yet!” Chris’ voice crackled over the speakers. “Wherever you are, immediately discard your bombs—I mean backpacks—and run!”

“Bombs?” Jo repeated as she shed the backpack. “That’s _low_ , McLean!”

But there were bigger things to worry about. Like winning, for instance.

“Mike, Zoey! The minecarts!” she barked. “I’m gonna help Brick!”

She dodged a couple of mutant gophers, who slammed into each other. When she passed Lightning, she tripped him.

“Ow!” Lighting yelled. He went sprawling; the statue bounced out of his hands and right to Scott’s feet.

“Later loser!” Jo picked up a spare bone off the floor and swung it at Ezekiel’s head. The force sent Zeke flying into the air.

“Jo!” Relief flooded through Brick’s voice.

“Mike and Zoey are waiting for us, we gotta go!” 

“Yes ma’am!”

Jo reached the carts first and settled herself beside Lightning and Scott. In the background, Sam and Cameron were struggling to walk. The toxic waste clearly affected them the hardest. Squealing rodents encircled them like vultures to roadkill.

Brick hesitated.

“Brick? _Brick_!” Jo snarled as he turned around. “Forget them! They’re the _enemy_!”

“We need to help them,” Brick countered. “Never leave a man behind, even if it’s the enemy.”

He tossed the statue at Zoey and doubled back to save Sam and Cameron.

“ _Ugh_.” Brick wasn’t gonna make it out in time if he worked alone. And if he didn’t make it out, the Maggots risked the win. That prospect _didn’t_ sit well with Jo.

She leaped out of the mine cart and rushed over to save Brick’s sorry butt, _again_. As the gophers bore down on Sam and Cameron, Brick threw a rock at them. The gophers squealed. While they were distracted, Brick picked up Cameron.

Cameron gushed, “Brick!”

“Steady yourself, soldier,” Brick answered.

“Just get to the freakin’ cart!” Jo grunted, arriving on the scene. She hoisted Sam onto her back.

“Jo?” Brick and Cameron’s incredulity was synchronized.

“Jo?” Sam mumbled. “I didn’t know _you_ were a playable character.”

“Shut up and let me win!” Jo ran to the mine carts as fast she could despite Couch Potato’s added weight. She dumped him into the final mine cart before settling back in the second one with Scott and Lightning. Brick set Cameron down in the cart, pushed it off, and hopped in as they descended the first hill.

The ride couldn’t have been more than a minute, max, but Jo was certain the screams of herself and her teammates would ring in her ears for years to come. The sunlight blinded her as the eight campers flew out of the mine.

They landed in a heap at the mercy of Chris and Chef, both of whom wore hazmat suits.

A frazzled Zoey tossed the statue to Chris. 

“And the Maggots win! Again!”

“Yes.” Jo weakly pumped a fist in the air. 

“Hey, what the heck happened to our sha-statue?” Lightning demanded.

“You must’ve lost it,” Scott responded, grinning despite being on the losing team. 

“No way! I thought you had it!”

“I didn’t.”

“Way to go, Lightning,” Sam murmured.

“Lightning _knows_ he tossed it to you. This is a conspiracy!” 

“Yeah, a conspiracy of bad memory!” Scott snarked.

“Shush!” Chris declared, raising an annoyed eyebrow. “I am _trying_ to launch Operation Doomsday here, so I’d appreciate it if you all would be quiet and _watch_!”

He pressed a red button. Immediately, an explosion collapsed the cave mouth from which they had just exited. When the smoke cleared, Chris and Chef exchanged a high five.

Mike stood up and harassed Chris about the feds and the bombs and the whatnot. Jo was too tired to care; she shut her eyes. With no vote to worry about, she had no reason to listen.

“Jo.”

She opened an eye. Brick was leaning over her, offering a hand. She sighed and took it.

“Thanks for returning to the fray for Sam and Cam,” Brick said. 

“Don’t mention it,” Jo said. “Literally. Do not. I just needed you to be in that cart so we could get immunity.”

Because she wasn’t listening to Chris’ monologue, Jo didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late. Chef unleashed a torrent of water on the group; the pressure knocked Jo back at least a few feet.

When it was over, and everyone was sopping wet, Chris and Chef announced that the kids had to find their own way back to camp; the hosts bid adieu and zoomed off in Chef’s truck.

“I hate it here,” Jo mumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, a Brick stan, writing this chapter knowing he's safe from elimination: :)  
> Kudos to anyone who catches the All Stars reference.


	6. Jocks of a Feather Flock Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the challenge, Jo hangs out with like-minded competitors and later makes a visit to the infirmary.

Who knew that running around in a toxic mine for thirty minutes could take such a toll on a person? When they got back to camp, Jo changed into her pajamas—white t-shirt and guys’ gym shorts—and left her hoodie and sweatpants out to air-dry. 

“Do _not_ wake me until lunch is ready,” she growled before slamming the door in Zoey’s face.

Zoey obliged, and four hours later Jo was gently shaken awake by the indie chick.

“Hi Jo!” Zoey whispered. Her eyeshadow and lipstick were smudged after hours of wear. “Um, you said to wake you when lunch was ready.”

“I guess.” Jo sat up. “What mess did Chef cook up?’

“Grilled cheese,” Zoey answered. “Except I think the cheese is from a mutant cow. Chef was vague about it.”

“Grilled cheese hardly makes up for kidnapping us in a meat locker this morning.”

Zoey nodded. “Oh, I know. But it’s better than starving.” 

Jo slid out of bed, immediately noticing her hoodie was neatly folded on the dresser. She raised an eyebrow.

“I took your stuff inside when it was dry.” Yet another example of Zoey’s unbearable niceness. “You can sit with Mike and me at lunch, if you want.”

“Nah, I’ll pass on that. Have fun, though,” Jo answered without really meaning it.

Once Jo had changed back into her usual attire, she walked to the mess hall. The mess hall felt empty. Mike, Cameron, and Zoey huddled together at the table closest to the door. Brick and Lightning ate at the other table, conversing quietly.

 _Dang_ , she thought as she held her food tray out for Chef, _we’re almost halfway done. Sweet._

After Jo received her grilled cheese, she sat down with the latter two.

“Where’s Scott and Sam?” she asked immediately.

“Scott finished his lunch a few minutes ago. Sam’s in the Rat cabin, sleeping off the effects of the toxic waste,” Brick explained. “And the effects of video game withdrawal, I think.”

“Plus he probably knows he’s gonna get the boot tonight.” Lightning stuck a fork into his grilled cheese.

“Why would _Sam_ get the boot? You’re the one who lost your team’s statue,” Jo pointed out. She bit into the grilled cheese. Crunchy. Yuck.

“No way! That wasn’t the Lightning’s fault!” Lightning glared at her. Jo wondered if he was gonna call her out for tripping him, but he didn’t get the chance.

“Woah!” Brick intervened in his do-gooder way. “Let’s not talk about the competition if it gets people riled up. We’re all friends here, right?” He smiled at both of them.

“Um,” Jo said. 

“Dude, sha-please,” Lightning said. “Lightning is only friends with winners. There’s only _one_ winner on this show. And that’s me!” He kissed his bicep and then ate a slice of grilled cheese.

“Ditto, except I have more brain cells than him.”

Brick’s smile lessened. “No matter. We can still act cordially since we’re all living on the same base.”

“Whatever floats your navy-issued boat,” Jo said. She looked over Brick’s shoulder. Speaking of acting cordially, Zoey and Mike were sitting uncomfortably close together. Zoey had seemed so unsure during their conversation last night, but now she was basically leaning on Mike’s arm as she ate.

“Hey, what happened while I was sleeping?” She nodded in their direction. “They look one second away from making out.”

“I didn’t inquire.” Brick glanced briefly back at their teammates. “I assume something happened while we were split up in the mines.”

“Guess Red has a thing for uppity Australians wearing fedoras,” Jo commented.

“Australians? Who’s Australian?” Lightning looked around.

“Just another one of Pointy’s weirdo method acting characters.” Jo and Brick took turns detailing their interactions with Manitoba Smith.

“Sha-dang!” Lightning exclaimed. “Didn’t know the ladies were into Australians! Usually, they’d rather be into the Lightning!” He flexed again.

“Who woulda thought,” Jo said dryly. Eating lunch with Lightning was like watching a one-man sitcom, and she and Brick were the lone audience members.

“Oh, that was sha-rude.” Lightning paused flexing and looked at Brick and Jo individually. “You two could definitely get some girls if you wanted. Creepy girl was kinda cute, am I right?”

Brick stifled laughter while Jo rolled her eyes. “Are you sha-blind?” She drew out the next sentence so he’d get it through his pea-sized brain. “ _I_ am _not_ a _dude_!”

“Guy, I can _see_ you’re a dude!” Lightning answered.

“For what it’s worth, I know you’re not a dude,” Brick told Jo. 

“Wow, that means _so_ much to me,” Jo answered sarcastically. A smile spread across her face as she recalled a teensy detail from the challenge. “Remember this morning when Manitoba was calling you a sheila?”

“Hey!” Brick protested.

Jo imitated an Australian accent. “Lassie, can you be a dear and pass the ketchup?”

Brick begrudgingly passed the bottle to Jo. “He probably just couldn’t see ‘cause it was so dark down there!” Jo squirted some ketchup on her half-eaten sandwich. Brick added, “I’m gonna have to go to therapy after this.”

“Last time Lightning went to therapy was after he tore his ACL!” Lightning proclaimed.

From there, the conversation turned to sports and athletics, topics more inviting to Jo than convincing Lightning she was a girl. Lightning listed his teams’ wins and statistics, Jo bragged about her champion titles in individual sports, and Brick chipped in with techniques he had picked up during basic training.

Their grilled cheeses were long gone by the time Brick finished one particular story. “And that’s how I earned the ‘most pull-ups completed in one sitting’ medal,” Brick finished one particular story. “It’s all about technique.”

“Oh really? And how many pull-ups _did_ you complete in one sitting?” Jo pressed.

“Seventeen.”

“That’s cute, because _my_ record is nineteen.”

“Seventeen was a slip of the tongue. I meant _twenty_.”

“Hold up, brothers!” Lightning halted the badinage. “There’s only one way to settle this.”

“A fight to the death,” Jo suggested.

Lightning missed the joke and sent her an ‘are you sha-crazy?’ look. “No, dude. Let’s go do a pull-up competition in the woods!”

“I’m game,” Brick agreed.

“So am I.” Jo stood up, nearly knocking over her stool. “As if I would turn down a challenge _I_ can win.”

Lightning and Brick got up as well, the latter commenting, “That’s what you said yesterday, and look how you did in the—” Jo punched him in the shoulder. “—aah!”

“It was a fluke,” she insisted.

Lightning remained clueless. “Sorry, what was a fluke?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jo said, glaring at Brick. “C’mon, we have pull-ups to do.”

Finding a tree for the contest took a few minutes. Eventually, Brick pointed out a short tree with branches sturdy enough to hold their collective weights. They gathered around the base of the tree.

“Step aside! Lightning is going first, ‘cause Lightning is number one!” He climbed up the tree and started doing pull-ups immediately. 

“One! 

“Two! 

“Three!

“...Hey what comes after three?”

“Negative ten!” Jo shouted back.

Lightning scowled. “No it doesn’t!”

Jo tried again. “Five?”

He brightened. “Yeah! Five!

“Seven!

“Eight!”

Jo turned to Brick. “D’you think this guy is concussed? Or is he naturally this dumb?”

“Hard to say,” Brick answered. “Lightning isn’t _so_ bad, though.”

“Sure,” Jo conceded. “If you like being confused for a dude all the time.”

“Can you blame him?” There Brick went again, always trying to be fair and give Lightning the benefit of the doubt.

Jo glanced down at her hoodie and sweats, both taken from the men’s section of her local sporting goods store. “No, I guess not. But he’s still an idiot!”

“Maybe if Lightning wins the money, he’ll invest in prescription glasses.”

“Guess he’ll be blind forever, ‘cause there’s no way he’s winning this competition,” Jo snarked. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“Thirty!” Lightning finished his last pull-up and dropped to the ground. “Let’s see you beat _that_.”

There was no way Lightning had actually done thirty pushups that quickly, but neither Brick nor Jo could dispute him because they had been talking instead of counting.

“I’ll go next.” Jo pushed Brick to the side and grabbed a hold of the branch. Her pull-ups were slower than Lightning’s had been, but her endurance made up for her pace.

“Go Jo!” Brick yelled after Jo finished her twentieth pull-up.

“You’re supposed to be rooting against me, Brickhead!” she grunted before starting on her twenty-first.

“I mean, er, throw in the towel right now!”

“What he said! You ain’t gonna beat the _Lightning_!”

As soon as her chin rose over the branch, Jo dropped down again. Her biceps ached, but that was good. The strain meant she was pushing herself, bettering herself; it meant she’d triumph over these two dumb boys.

Jo pulled herself up again. “Twenty-two!” she gasped. 

Lightning threw a pine cone at her. 

“Hey!” Jo yelled. “What gives?”

He shrugged. “Sorry. Lightning’s hand slipped.”

Twenty-two was enough, she decided. As if Brick would beat it. 

Jo let go of the branch and dropped to the ground. She grinned at Brick. “See that? Twenty-two, and I hardly broke a sweat.” It was an exaggeration, and they both knew it.

“But Lightning did thirty!” Lightning interjected.

“One, no you didn’t. And two, you’re disqualified for _throwing a pine cone at me_!” Jo whacked him in the head, causing Lightning to yelp in surprise.

“Alright, my turn!” Brick dutifully grabbed onto the branch and began his own reps. “One! Two! Three!”

Jo’s mind wandered back to yesterday morning when she and Brick had been jogging in the woods. It felt like an eternity ago, especially since Dawn had interrupted their conversation, and now she wasn’t even on the island at all. An idea struck Jo as she mulled over the memory.

“So, Jockstrap, what would you say about forming an alliance with me?”

Lightning furrowed his brow. “Uh, did you hit your head in the mine, bro? We ain’t on the same team anymore!”

“We can still form an inter-team alliance, though,” Jo persisted. “Then once the merge hits, we’ll be unstoppable!”

Her logic failed to convince Lightning. “Lightning is unstoppable already! He’s a one-man winning machine!” 

Conscious of an upcoming Lightning-induced migraine, Jo resisted the urge to rub her temple, and instead switched tactics. “Think of it this way: every quarterback needs a receiver. _I_ can be your receiver!”

 _More like the other way around_ , she added silently, but her words finally got through to Lightning.

“Sha-done, brother!” He held his hand out, and Jo smirked as she shook it. “Guys’ alliance, let’s go!”

Her smirk morphed into a scowl. “Yeah, _guys’_ alliance.”

With that matter settled, she turned her attention back to Brick and barked, “What’s your count, soldier?”

“Twelve, ma’am!” he answered.

“Not bad. Still no match for _me_ , though.”

Brick grunted in response and double-timed it on the pull-ups.

He finally dropped off the branch a few minutes later; unlike Jo and Lightning, Brick fell straight onto the ground.

Jo offered him a hand. As she pulled him up, she boasted, “And with a final score of nineteen to twenty-two, I think _I_ won this one.”

“I concede defeat.” Brick dusted himself off before giving Jo a salute. She smiled; there was nothing better than being recognized as athletically superior.

“Both of you lose! Lightning got thirty!”

Jo repeatedly poked him in the shoulder. “Dis. Qua. Li. Fied.”

“Sha-whatever.” Lightning pouted. 

Brick opened his mouth to make a comment, but his gaze landed on something behind Jo. “Hello, Scott!”

Jo turned around. Indeed, her former teammate, the subject of so much mystery and debate, slunk into view. 

“Brick. Jo. Lightning.” Scott nodded at each of them.

“Wanna join our pull-up competition?” Lightning asked. “Good luck beating _me_ , though!”

Scott eyed the trio warily. “No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“I mean, it’s not like you have anything better to do.” Jo’s next words were a challenge. “Do you?”

Scott locked eyes with her for a moment. He finally answered, “No, but I value my alone time. You understand, right?”

“Of course,” she answered readily. 

Scott smiled shrewdly. “Exactly. I’ll be on my way, then. See you guys at dinner!” 

He walked on, headed in the direction of camp.

“Speaking of alone time…” Jo paused. She was _gonna_ say “I’m going back to my room,” but the words died on her lips. Did she really want that? Hanging out with Brick and Lightning was surprisingly fun, and she was in no hurry to return to solitude in the cabin.

Huh. That was a first.

“Jo?” Brick snapped his fingers, and she blinked.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“You trailed off mid-sentence. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she answered.

“What were you gonna say?”

“Uh, speaking of alone time, it’s pretty obvious what Scott was doing in the woods just now.”

“Taking a whiz?” Lightning guessed.

“Wrong.” Jo rolled her eyes. 

When Brick figured it out, his face lit up. “Are you referring to the immunity statue?”

Jo nodded. “Glad to see you’ve been paying attention.”

“May I point out that just because someone is in the woods doesn’t mean they’re looking for the statue,” Brick replied, folding his hands across his chest. “I mean, we’re here right now, and we haven’t even looked for it.”

“No need!” For the umpteenth time, Lightning flexed his biceps. “I _am_ an invincibility statue.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty confident I don’t need some silly statue to win,” Jo reasoned. Truthfully, she hadn’t thought to look because she was too busy A) harassing other campers, B) working out, or C) losing dumb make-up competitions. 

She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “But in the hands of someone as volatile as Scott...”

“...It’s a deadly weapon,” Brick finished, frowning.

“What are you gonna _do_ about it?” Lightning broke in.

“Nothing. If Scott _does_ have the idol, it’s a Rat problem.” Jo smirked at him. “Better vote him out so you can flush out the idol now.”

“ _If_ he has it,” Brick clarified.

Lightning shrugged. “Nah. Gamer dude is going sha-bye-bye. Lightning’s been waiting to boot Sam out since day two!”

“Good luck getting Cameron to vote for his fellow geek,” Jo commented snidely. “Nerds stick together like glue.”

Brick made a face, but Lightning perked up. “You’re right! Lightning’s gotta make sure Cameron is on his side tonight! Catch ya later!”

He sped off in search of his lanky teammate.

“Well,” Jo said after Lightning had disappeared from sight, “I might have accidentally doomed Mario to elimination.”

“I get the feeling you’re not that upset about it.”

Jo glanced at Brick and shrugged. “Yeah. No matter which Rat gets kicked tonight, it’s a win in my books.” Except maybe Lightning, since she had literally just formed an alliance with him, but in the long run, it was still a win.

She followed when Brick started walking. “I know I mentioned it already, but I’d like to thank you again for coming back to help me with Cam and Sam.”

“Not this again.” Jo shoved her hands in her pockets. “I literally only went back because you would have taken too long if you went by yourself.”

“Even so,” Brick insisted, “it was an admirable feat. We could’ve saved their lives!”

“It wasn’t that big a deal. We were only down there for thirty minutes, and Chris said Dakota survived after forty.”

“Dakota!” Brick snapped his fingers. “We should visit her in the medical tent.”

“That’s a dumb idea. I haven’t said a single word to Pinky Pinkerson in the entire time we’ve been here.”

“Trust me. Injured soldiers always appreciate visits,” Brick promised. 

“Okay, but you do know she’s an _intern_ , not a soldier, right? Just so we’re clear.”

“Of course.” Brick saluted, and Jo sighed. The boys on this island were all hopeless.

Since Jo hadn’t been to the medical tent yet and Brick had—several times—she wasn’t able to run ahead and beat him to the location. Instead, they walked side by side and talked about inconsequential anecdotes, like sports seasons or a funny crab Brick had seen on his run earlier.

They reached the green tent, and Brick held open the front flap so Jo could step inside. His chivalry amused her, and she smirked.

“Thanks, Major Manners,” she quipped. Then her eyes fell on Dakota, literally strapped onto the cot.

Jo was faced with the hardest task of her life: trying not to make a joke at the expense of Dakota’s bald head.

“Um. Hi.” Jo bit her lip. _This is part hilarious, part disturbing. What the heck did Chris do to her_?

“Greetings, Dakot— _aah_!” Brick’s eyes bugged out of his head.

 _And I thought_ I _was bad at being subtle._

Dakota scowled. “Um, why are you two here? I don’t even know your names.”

“Allow us to introduce ourselves.” Jo smiled broadly. “I’m Jo, the winner of this season.” Then she poked Brick’s chest. “And this here’s Brick, the namby-pamby cadet who insisted on paying you a visit.”

“Chris mentioned your predicament earlier,” Brick explained. “We thought you could use some cheering up.”

“ _He_ thought you could use some cheering up,” Jo clarified. “I’m just here for the ride.”

Dakota scrunched up her face. “Wow. I thought _Sam_ would visit before you guys would. Um, thanks, I guess? But I don’t—”

Brick interrupted her. “It’s not Sam’s fault! He’s been asleep since this morning. The toxic waste really messed with him.”

Dakota’s green eyes widened in concern. “Oh no! He’s not, y’know, the _B word_ , is he?”

“Bald?” Jo suggested, exchanging a glance with Brick glanced; Dakota shuddered.

“Last I saw, he wasn’t,” Jo said. “Who knows? That could’ve changed.”

An inhuman noise escaped Dakota’s throat, disturbing even Jo. She took a step back, bumping into Brick in the process.

“I. Hate. Chris!” Dakota seethed. “After forcing me to do all these _horrendous_ , _filthy_ chores, he’s the reason I ended up _bald_! Do you know how long it’ll take me to grow back my hair? _Years_! And only now do I find out he’s also endangered Sam’s life? Sam doesn’t deserve that! I’ve just about had it with that sadistic, arrogant, self-centered, shell-of-a-man!”

“Woo hoo!” Jo hollered, eager to join in on the Chris-hate train. “You tell him!” 

Brick’s eyes were wide. “Am I able to assist you in any way, Dakota? I’m sure I can find some chamomile tea if I look hard enough.”

Dakota’s face twisted. “Chris only stocks McLean brand tea and coffee, and _believe_ me, I’m never drinking that again. But could you untie me? I need to make sure Sam’s okay!”

“Um, I don’t think—”

Before Brick could say no, Jo stepped in and unbuckled Dakota’s bounds.

“There,” she said, grinning. “Now you can find Sam _and_ beat the crap out of Chris.”

“Oh my gosh, _thank_ you!” Dakota hopped up immediately. Maybe it was because Jo hadn’t properly looked at the intern in a while, but she looked… taller.

“See ya around!” Dakota disappeared into the woods.

“Huh.” Jo’s gaze fell on a half-eaten bag of marshmallows sitting beside Dakota’s bed. “Hey, marshmallows. Want one?”

She tossed one to Brick. “Letting loose an angered intern might not have been the wisest thing you’ve ever done,” he commented before he ate it.

Jo swallowed the two marshmallows she had just stuffed in her mouth. “You’re the one who decided we just _had_ to visit her.”

Brick absent-mindedly took a few more marshmallows from the bag, his gaze unfocused and thoughtful. “I just hope Dakota won’t do anything too rash.”

“If she doesn’t attack Chris, then what was this for?” Jo finished the last marshmallows and tossed the empty bag onto Dakota’s cot as they left the medical tent.

“Being nice?” Brick suggested.

 _Oh jeez. That’s a good one_. Jo snickered. “Clearly you don’t know me very well, Brick-for-brains.”

“I know you like to win.”

Jo cooly replied, “And that’s all you need to know. Now can we get out of here?”

* * *

Jo spent fifteen minutes in the confessional ranting about Manitoba Smith’s incompetence. When she finished, she met up with Brick again, and they passed the next few hours on the beach, tossing around a volleyball. At some point, Mike, Zoey, and Cameron joined them; their one v. one grudge match became a two v. two game refereed by Stringbean.

The score had reached 24-23—Jo and Zoey were winning—when the cruddy loudspeakers crackled to life.

“Toxic Rats!” announced the voice of their very obnoxious host. “We’re having an early elimination tonight! Please report to the campfire ceremony. Maggots, keep doing whatever you’re doing.”

Cameron stood from his spot on the side of the match.

“Well, that’s my cue.” He chuckled apprehensively.

“Good luck, Cameron!” Zoey flashed him two thumbs-up.

“Yeah!” Mike added. “It would suck if you got eliminated. Especially since y’know, you agreed to help me out with that… thing…”

“What are you _blathering_ about, Pointy?” Jo spiked the ball at Mike to shut him up. Mike failed to return the hit.

“25-23!” she proclaimed.

They kept playing—out of boredom, not genuine love for the sport—until the loudspeaker announced dinnertime’s arrival.

“Who do you think got voted out?” Zoey wondered as the quartet left the beach.

“Sam,” Brick and Jo said in unison.

“Oh,” Zoey squeaked. “That’s a shame.”

Their suspicions were confirmed when they entered the mess hall and Sam was nowhere to be seen. Scott and Lightning were sitting down eating; Cameron was still in line to receive his meal from Chef. The Maggots piled in line behind Cam, and Mike asked Cam how the ceremony had gone.

“It was astronomically interesting!” Cameron gushed, stepping to the side so everyone else could get their food. “Dakota came running out of _nowhere_! But I hardly even recognized her, because her exposure to the toxic waste mutated her into a monster!”

“No way!” Zoey gasped as Chef piled the dinner onto her plate.

Brick and Jo exchanged a glance, and she laughed nervously.

“But at the end of the night, Dakota quit and took the Hurl of Shame with Sam.”

Jo elbowed Brick. “Guess I made the right choice after all. Now she’s off this crummy island.”

Brick nodded thoughtfully.

Zoey poked the pasta that Chef had just dished her. “Not that it doesn’t look amazing, which it does, but…. what is this?”

“Turkey buttolini,” Chef answered gruffly. “Enjoy your na-meal. Enjoy your meal.”

Cam said goodbye to Mike and Zoey, and the Maggots sat down at their table. Jo sat beside Brick and across from Zoey. Try as she might, it was impossible for Jo to look away from Zoey’s horribly lopsided makeup.

For the first few minutes, everyone ate in silence. Jo shoved forkful after forkful of pasta into her mouth. The food was decent, for _once_ , but it was hard to enjoy her meal when she was directly across from a circus clown.

When she could no longer bear the assault on her eyes, Jo broke the silence. “When are you gonna take off the face paint, Red?”

“Um, _you_ were the one who put half of the ‘facepaint’ on me.” Zoey frowned. “But it’s coming off after dinner, as usual.”

They continued eating, individual conversations emerging as the dinner progressed until eventually, Mike addressed the whole group.

“Anyone wanna go stargazing tonight?” Mike asked.

“I’d _love_ to.” Zoey lazily rested her chin in her palm as she stared at Mike.

“Sounds like an excellent field mission,” Brick agreed.

They all looked at Jo, who was mid-slurp of her turkey dinner.

 _No way am I third-wheeling the Mike-and-Zoey love fest with Brick._ The analytical part of her mind jumped in: _If you leave the three of them alone, they could form an alliance and vote you off._ Then a final thought occurred: _Zoey and Mike will be too busy making out to form an alliance with Brick._

“Um, I’m good,” she said, stifling a yawn. “I need a good night’s sleep to be at peak performance.”

“But it’ll be fun!” Brick whined.

“I’m already kinda tired,” she countered. “I blame the toxic waste.”

As Mike stifled a yawn, a loud _thump_ caught Jo’s attention. At the Rats’ table, Lightning had passed out, his head buried in his dish.

Brick’s voice sounded far away. “Someone should”—he yawned—“help him.”

“Whatever,” Jo muttered, though a voice in the back of her mind said that it wouldn’t be very good if Lightning died. Shut up, voice. In other news, her eyelids felt like 100-pound weights had been attached to them.

Zoey yawned. “I’m just gonna take a nap, if it’s alright with you guys.” She slumped against Mike and snored softly.

“Yeah,” Jo agreed. “Nap sounds like a nice idea.”

“Comrades!” Brick protested, waving his hand around wildly. “We were gonna go stargazing!” Then he pulled a Lightning and passed out on the table.

“I think we’re _dying_.” Mike’s sleepy voice was the last thing Jo heard before she rested her head against the table, ready for some well-deserved Zs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact I learned while writing this: turkey buttolini is not a real dish.  
> Anyways, Anne Maria being booted earlier=no double elimination=Dakota not returning to the game. Ultimately, Sam's and Dakota's arcs wrap up without Jo there to witness/narrate, but I think that's okay because this is story is more about Jo than the overall competition. Just know Dakota and Sam are happy together, and they'll be back... eventually.  
> Also I love the jock trio. There's no birds in the chapter, but I couldn't think of a better pun, so "Jocks of a Feather Flock Together" will have to do for a title.
> 
> Elimination order: Staci, Dakota, B, Anne Maria, Dawn, Sam.  
> 


	7. Pirates of the Muskoka District Muncipality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo learns how to lead as she and her teammates battle an evil squid and hunt for a treasure chest containing ex-camper Gwen and a previously hurled contestant.

_BRIIIIIING_.

Jo jolted upright, startled into anger. Brick’s crummy alarm clock had no business waking her up—

Wait. What the heck? Why was she on a _raft_? And why were Brick, Zoey, and Mike also there?

“What? Where are we?” Mike asked, bewildered.

Zoey’s eyes were wide. “Chris must have set us adrift after we went to sleep!” 

“How the heck did he get us all out here without waking us?” Brick demanded. 

Scott chipped in from the Rats’ raft behind them. “I don’t remember anything after dinner!”

“Me neither!” Jo mulled over last night’s events. One minute Mike had been talking about something, and the next, _nothing._

“Dinner! That’s it!” Cameron gasped. “Turkey makes you sleepy, so _mutant_ turkey must have knocked us out cold.”

“Gotta hand it to Chris,” Jo muttered. “He knows his tricks.” She glanced at the Rats’ raft. “Hey, Freckleface!” When Scott looked her way, she nodded at Lightning. “You gonna wake him up, or should I?”

In response, Scott kicked Lightning into the water. Jo snickered as Lightning sputtered; she wouldn’t have done it any other way.

“Hey!” Mike pointed to a chest floating nearby. “Sweet hat.”

“No!” Cameron yelped, practically leaping onto the Maggots’ platform. He knocked the hat out of Mike’s hands.

“ _Chill_ , Stringbean.” Words could not explain how perplexed Jo felt. “It’s just a hat.”

“Yeah, what gives?” Scott asked suspiciously. He and Lightning stared down Cameron. Brick and Zoey also looked on in confusion.

“Sorry.” Cameron shuffled his feet, buckling under the stares of literally everyone else. “I tripped.”

Jo didn’t believe that bull, and clearly neither did anyone else, but the roars of twin jet skis alerted them to Chef’s and Chris’ arrivals.

“Mornin’, _suckers_!” Chris’ cheery grin made Jo’s blood boil in a way nothing else could. “How’d you enjoy your turkey buttolini?”

“What gives, Chris?” she demanded. “Get us back to that stupid island already!”

“Yeah!” Scott put in. “Those crazy sharks are probably gonna attack us any minute!”

“Slow your collective rolls,” Chris drawled. “I have a few announcements to make.”

He held up a photo of the wooden Chris head. “If any of you are still trying to find that McLean brand invincibility sculpture I hid at the beginning of the season, you can stop now. Somebody’s already found it.”

 _Called it_. While Chris talked, Jo and Brick exchanged a look. Her expression hardened when she peeked over at Lightning and Scott. If Scott did have the invincibility statue, his neutral expression gave nothing away. 

“...the ultimate reward,” Chris was saying. He threw his hands in the air. “Life itself!”

“Perfect,” Zoey murmured under her breath. 

Jo grinned as Chris explained the first challenge. A race to shore was _definitely_ in her skillset. Chris had barely finished speaking when she ripped the Maggot signpost off the raft and shoved it into Brick’s arms.

“Alright, Brickhead, get rowing,” she ordered.

“Yes, ma’am!” Brick immediately started paddling.

“Why don’t you paddle?” Mike asked, raising a bushy eyebrow.

“Because I’m the captain of this ship, Fedora Freak,” Jo answered. “And the captain gives the orders.”

“What Jo _means_ to say,” Brick added as he paddled, “is that it’s important to delegate tasks between teammates. And I’m happy to row!”

“Uh, okay. So, what should I do?” Mike pointed at himself.

Jo looked over at the Rats. Scott and Lightning struggled to dislodge their signpost, while Cameron looked on with concern.

“Copycats,” she muttered as she bent down and grabbed a piece of driftwood from the water. She tossed the wood to Mike. “Since you’re so anxious to be helpful, you can paddle, too!”

Once the boys were paddling, Jo kept an eye on the Rats, and Zoey stood there being Zoey.

“Shouldn’t _we_ be doing something?” she asked Jo.

“We _are_ ,” Jo answered smugly. “We’re making sure the Rats don’t catch up!”

“Oh, okay. Can I wash my face while you do that?” 

Jo looked at Zoey’s smudged, day-old makeup. 

“Go for it, Black Eye.” She dismissed Zoey with a flick of her wrist.

Zoey sighed, not even bothering to fight Jo on the nickname. She crouched down at the front of the raft and splashed water on her face.

Meanwhile, Jo watched as Lightning yank the signpost off the raft. His excessive force tossed it several yards behind the Rats’ raft. Scott facepalmed; Cameron groaned.

Jo snickered. Her team was _so_ gonna win this one.

Then Zoey shrieked. 

“Captain!” Brick hollered, panicked. Jo whirled around. A giant squid leered over them, wrapping Zoey in one of its pink tentacles.

“Zoey!” Mike cried.

“Maggots, _attack_!” Jo ripped the driftwood out of Mike’s skinny hands and immediately went to town on the nearest tentacle. Brick did the same using the signpost. Mike, on the other hand, was not so helpful.

“Argh, you whippersnappers and your dang exotic pets! Back in my day, a goldfish was enough entertainment for hours!”

Jo would have _strangled_ Chester if she wasn’t about to be strangled herself. A slippery squid arm wound itself around her body and lifted her up. That didn’t deter her assault.

“I—” _Wack_. “—won’t—” _Wack_. “—be—” _Wack_. “—some—” _Wack_. “—kalamari’s—” _Wack_. “— _dinner_!”

“Someone get me down from here!” Zoey cried. The squid tightened its grip on her. 

Brick hung upside down by his boots. “I don’t know _how_!”

“You pipsqueaks ain’t ever been to war,” grumbled Chester. “I fought battles twice this ferocious in ‘Nam.”

“Shut up, Chester!” Jo and Brick yelled simultaneously.

“Mike!” Cameron yelled from out of nowhere. “Breathe, Mike, breathe!”

Chester obeyed, and one weird expression later, Mike had returned. “What’s _happening_?”

Cameron’s intervention left Jo momentarily distracted; the squid knocked the driftwood from her hands and lifted her into the air.

“Ack!” She literally couldn’t breathe. _I can’t freaking believe this is how I go out._

Above her, Zoey faced the same predicament. Beneath her, Mike ran around like a headless chicken. Across from her, Brick wildly threw his stick at the squid’s face.

The signpost hit the squid dead in the eyeball. Startled, it dropped the three Maggots. Jo barely had time to take a breath before she plunged into the lake. Underwater, she kicked furiously, creating as much distance as possible between herself and that freakshow.

She emerged several yards away; Brick, Zoey, and Mike popped up next to her.

Jo turned to Brick. “Race you to shore!”

“You’re on!” he answered, immediately swimming in the direction of Wawanakwa.

That was one person taken care of. As Jo followed after him, she called over her shoulder, “Move it, Maggots!”

Jo and Brick were neck and neck, Mike and Zoey trailing behind, when the Rats’ screams caught her attention. They stopped paddling and watched as Scott, Lightning, and Cameron hurled through the air. 

Brick flinched as the Rats crashed onto the beach. “Captain, I regret to inform you that I think we’ve lost.”

Jo pursed her lips and groaned. “ _Ugh_. Paddle harder! It ain’t over ‘til it’s over!”

It was over minutes later, when Jo, Brick, Zoey, and Mike made it to shore, some more winded than others. The swimming didn’t bother Jo, but what _did_ bother her was getting soaked to the bone every other day.

“Good effort, soldiers,” Brick said weakly.

“Yeah, especially from our _Vietnam Vet_.” Jo glowered at Mike. Oh yes, Method Actor McGhee was _so_ getting the boot as soon as possible. 

“Put a sock in it!” Chris ordered. He stood on the beach, sandwiched between Chef and the portable TV. The Rats stood on the other side of the TV; Cameron held a compass and map.

 _Great. They’ve got an advantage_. 

“Anywho, the second part of today’s challenge was conceived as a prank involving Total Drama classic competitor Gwen. _But_ it’s turned into more of a rescue mission.”

Chris pressed a button, and the TV lit up with live feed of Gwen on her hands and knees.

 _Where exactly_ is _Gothball_? Jo wondered, but Gwen’s panicked shrieks answered her question immediately.

“Oh no. I’m buried _alive_? _Again_?” Gwen’s voice cracked, and she started banging on the wall. “ _Chriiiiiiis_!”

Mike raised a disapproving eyebrow. “Burying someone alive is _seriously_ dangerous.”

Brick’s pupils were basically pinpricks. “Not to mention d-dark and scary.”

Chris remained unfazed. “That’s why we’re using the buddy system! And instead of letting last year’s losers have all the fun, we brought back one of _this year_ ’s duds.”

Eh, if Jo had to pick someone to return, she’d pick Dawn, the only other person who disliked Scott as much as she did.

As Gwen continued screaming, the camera feed zoomed out. Lying on the floor beside Gwen, Anne Maria sprayed her hair without a care in the world.

“Ay, keep it down, girl,” Anne Maria quipped. “It’s startin’ to get annoying.”

She drizzled aerosol onto her thick poof. Gwen coughed.

“What’s _your_ excuse for your _annoying_ hair products?” she snapped. “I’m gonna _choke_ on this junk!”

Anne Maria frowned. “Hey! I spray when I’m nervous!”

Jo cracked a smile. “So do skunks,” she whispered to Brick. He was unamused.

“Ladies, and Mike, we are morally obligated to rescue our former teammate from peril!” He slammed a fist into his palm and stared at the TV screen in determination.

“‘Moral obligation.’” Chris air-quoted Brick. “Can you believe this guy?”

Chef shrugged.

“Rats!” Chris pointed to the offending team. “You have your compass and map to the general vicinity of the chest at the northern tip of the island. Now _go_!”

The three boys hustled off—Cameron trailing behind, per usual—and Jo started to follow them. Unfortunately, Chris stopped her.

“To the losers go the penalty belts!” He beamed. “Chef! Lock ‘em in!”

Chef grinned and held up four metal belts.

Being handcuffed in a penalty belt was humiliating to say the least. Chef took his sweet time, time that could have been used to catch up with the Rats.

 _This is fine_ , Jo told herself. _You can still beat them easy peasy. And the belts suck, but at least it’s not some stupid frilly dress_.

“These must weigh a hundred pounds!” Mike whined as Chef locked him in.

“Hundred and twenty, to be precise,” Chris replied. Jo was pretty sure Mike weighed less than that, but she had no time to dwell on it because Chris stuck a metal detector on Mike’s back.

“A metal detector?” Brick’s unibrow raised in confusion.

Jo protested, “How is that supposed to help us find a wooden chest?”

“It’s not.” Chris smiled like that was the most obvious thing in the world. He whipped out his megaphone. 

“Now, _go_! _Go go go go go_!”

His proclamation startled Jo and her teammates; they all jumped before scurrying off into the woods.

“Okay, I have a _great_ strategy,” Jo said as they ran. “We find the Rats and then follow them to the chest.”

“Remember the last time you suggested we follow the Rats?” Mike’s eyes narrowed.

“Mike has a point,” Zoey said. “We should just stick to the trail.”

Jo rolled her eyes. “But I’m the captain, and—”

“—captains know when to defer to their teammates’ wishes,” Brick finished for her. 

“What?” Jo blustered. “That’s not what I was gonna say!” 

“Well if you want to get yourself eliminated,” Brick answered, “go ahead and finish your initial sentiment.”

Jo made a face. Okay, so maybe Brick was more decisive than she gave him credit for. In any case, she shut up and continued running, at least until the group arrived at the edge of a very smelly swamp.

“I propose we trek straight through,” Brick suggested. He glanced at Jo. “What say you, captain?”

Before Jo could answer, Zoey piped up.

“Look!” As best she could, Zoey pointed to a crudely-drawn arrow in the dirt.

“This must be the way!” Excitement edged into Jo’s voice. Maybe they wouldn’t lose after all.

“Wait!” Mike hesitated. “What if it’s a trick by the Rats?”

“Cameron wouldn’t let them do that!” Zoey argued. 

“But maybe Scott or Lightning drew it behind his back,” Mike pointed out.

 _Try Scott_ , Jo thought wryly. 

As Zoey and Mike talked, Brick nudged her. “Make a decision, captain! And be nice about it.”

“ _Nice_.” Jo practically gagged on the word. Still, Brick had a point. Experience had shown Mike and Zoey responded best to kindness, even if Jo was unpracticed in the virtue.

“I hate to break up your _lovers’ quarrel_ ,” Jo interrupted them, and they both fell silent. “But as the only person here with _experience_ on Team Rat, I can confidently say that no one on that team would even _think_ of sabotaging us. Furthermore,” she added, noting the satisfied expressions on her teammates’ faces, “as your captain, I say we march directly into the swamp. No time to lose!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Brick attempted to salute but cried out in pain when the penalty belt chafed his wrists.

“Maggots rule!” Zoey cheered.

They hustled into the swamp, but the thigh-high swamp water slowed their momentum. Once again, Zoey and Mike lagged behind several paces while Jo forged ahead, Brick at her side.

“So,” she said. “What was that all about?”

“What?”

“The ‘be a nice person, yay team captain’ shtick,” Jo clarified, scrunching her nose at both the phrase and the swamp stink. “What’s the deal?”

“I merely thought you’d be more effective at rallying the troops if you acted with consideration. That, and it gives them less of a reason to vote you out in the off chance we fail to rescue Anne Maria and Gwen.” 

“Huh. Well, consideration isn’t usually my _style_ , but it got them to listen to me.” Jo furrowed her brow, thinking. Brick wasn’t actually _right_ , was he? That seemed impossible. Rather than admit that, Jo opted to switch topics.

“By the way, nice job getting that freaky squid monster to let us go.”

Brick chuckled. “Thanks, but it was the adrenaline working, not me.”

“Well whatever it was, it saved our butts,” Jo answered. “Speaking of…”

She halted. Several yards away, a large alligator-with-tentacles—why so many tentacles?—growled at the base of a tree. Cameron, Scott, and Lightning were clinging to the tree branches. 

“What the heck?” Mike said.

“We have to help them!” Zoey cried.

Brick turned around. “I’m afraid we have more pressing matters to attend to, ma’am!”

Jo, Mike, and Zoey also turned. Three sets of gator eyes stared hungrily at them. 

_Oh crap_.

Zoey naively asked, “Uh, nice gators?” Meanwhile, Jo was already backing away.

The center alligator roared and lunged forward. As luck would have it, its powerful jaws snagged on Mike’s shirt and not Mike’s actual body. The teal fabric tore to shreds, and _voila_ , Mike was shirtless.

Jo internally groaned as the freakish expression on Mike’s face gave way to a tough-guy smirk.

“Ay yo!” Vito crowed. “Wassup fools?”

“Vito?” Zoey’s face darkened. “What’s _he_ doing here?”

The gators snapped at the group again. Brick and Zoey screamed.

“It’s time for a tactical retreat!” Brick yelled.

“Fall back, soldiers!” Jo added loudly. Zoey and Brick backed away as fast as the swamp water allowed them. 

Vito, however, stayed put, sizing up the _three_ alligators.

 _Oh gosh, he’s gonna actually die_ , Jo realized. _I’m about to witness a murder_.

“Handcuffs never stop the Vito, eh?” The tough guy kicked a clump of mud into the alligator’s eyes. It roared and thrashed in the water. The flanking two alligators appeared disoriented but not totally dissuaded from attacking.

Okay, that was it. If mafia-reject _Vito_ could beat up an alligator, so could Jo.

“Hey Toothy!” she screamed, charging at the leftmost gator. “Take this!” Jo landed a kick to the gator’s lower jaw. It whimpered and swam away.

With one gator gone and one dazed, they had one opponent left. The final gator, enraged its friends had been taken down, bared its mangled teeth at Jo and Vito.

“You’ll never take me alive!” Jo hollered, more to stall for time than anything else.

“Yeah, what she said!” Vito echoed grimly.

Out of nowhere, a large rock smacked the alligator’s snout. It whimpered and looked for the source of its agitation, as did Jo and Vito.

“Sha-score!” Lightning stood in the branches of the tree, flexing his biceps in triumph. To the alligator beneath him, he yelled, “You don’t wanna eat Lightning! Go eat that other tiny gator instead!”

The alligator slapped its tentacles in delight and veered towards the Maggots. While its back was turned, Lightning and Scott zoomed out of the tree heading north. Cameron, however, followed the monster towards Jo and Vito.

 _What is_ wrong _with Pencilneck?_

“You go on ahead,” Vito said, spitting into the water as if it made him tough. “I’ll pit these loser crocs against each other no sweat.”

“Are you sure? I can hold my own against these freaks, too,” Jo snapped back.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” Vito smirked. “I’ve faced worse in Jersey.”

“Well, if you’re sure.” Jo turned around. “See ya!” 

She was almost out of earshot by the time the giant alligator and Cameron arrived. 

“Mike! Breath!” Cameron shouted. 

Jo didn’t look back to see Mike’s response. She wanted out of this swamp, and she wanted out now. 

Jo caught up to Zoey and Brick, who were catching their breaths at the edge of the murk.

“What’s going on?” Zoey asked. “Where’s Vito?”

“He said he’d take care of it,” Jo replied curtly. “Did you guys see where the Rats went?”

Brick nodded. “They ran past a few moments ago.”

“No time to waste!” Jo declared, her eyebrows knit in determination. “We gotta catch up to them!”

Scott and Lightning were already digging a hole when Jo and her subordinates arrived on the scene.

“Okay, how are we supposed to find the chest?” Jo looked around, awaiting a suggestion from Zoey or Brick.

A bruised and battered Mike stumbled into the clearing, followed by Cameron, who ran to join his own team on the other side of the clearing. 

“I don’t feel so good,” he mumbled before collapsing onto the ground next to a rock. 

_Beep beep beep_ , went the metal detector.

Jo kicked the rock to the side, revealing a small silver key and large wooden one.

“Things just got interesting,” she said, stooping to pick up the silver key. Her penalty belt was off immediately, then she did the same thing to Brick and Zoey.

“The second key is clearly for the treasure chest.” Brick rubbed his sore wrists.

Zoey knelt beside Mike, checking his pulse. She looked up at Jo and Brick. “But how do we find it?”

The ground thumped beneath them. “Somebody let me _out of here_!” shouted the muffled voice of Gwen.

“Bingo!” Jo grinned, ripped the metal detector off Mike’s back, and went to town on the dirt.

“Need some help—” Brick nearly choked on a clod of dirt Jo tossed in his face.

She didn’t stop digging until the metal detector hit the top of the chest with a _thunk_.

“Maggots win!” Chris announced gleefully, flying in on his jetpack.

“Woo hoo!” Jo hopped out of her hole and passed the metal detector to Brick. “You can take over the rescue mission now.”

While Brick worked on undoing the chest lock, Lightning was yelling loudly on the other side of the clearing.

“I thought you said you heard them over here!” He glared at Scott. “Sha-liar!”

“Hey, it’s not _my_ fault,” Scott deftly deflected the blame by jerking a thumb at Cameron. “This one kept stopping to help Mike out.”

Cameron frowned, but Jo stopped paying attention to the Rats because Brick had released Gwen and Anne Maria from their prison.

“Air! Open sky!” Gwen gasped dramatically, her eyes wide and manic as if she’d been injected with an epi-pen. She shook Brick vigorously. “I owe you my _life_!”

“No life debt is necessary, ma’am,” Brick answered, slightly off-put by her hysteria. “I can certainly understand the terror of being buried in the dark.”

Since Chris wouldn’t be providing transportation, the whole group trekked back to camp, this time taking care to avoid the swamp. Gwen was talking to Brick, Cameron stuck to Mike's and Zoey's sides, Lightning and Scott glared at each other, and Jo, flanked by Tan-in-a-can, brought up the rear.

“Ay, Jo.” Anne Maria glanced at Jo while simultaneously spraying her poof. “What gives? You on the Maggots again?”

Jo abridged the whole affair in one sentence. “Yeah, got switched with Pencilneck.” 

“Crazy,” Anne Maria said nonchalantly. “What’s the deal with Mike?”

Behind them, Brick was carrying Mike on his back while he talked with Gwen.

“Unconscious. Gator attack. You know how it is.”

Anne Maria nodded sagely. “Yeah. This island is nuts! Kinda glad I got booted when I did.”

“Clearly that hairspray is turning your brain to mush. You don’t care about losing a _million_ dollars?”

“First off, all the money in the world ain’t worth riskin’ my gorgeous locks.” Anne Maria punctuated the statement by rapping her knuckles on her hair-of-steel. “Second, Dawn and Sam were tellin’ me ‘bout some of the challenges you guys did after I got knocked. Ha! As if I’d _ever_ be caught dead in a mine with that freakshow ‘Zekiel.”

“You’ve been hanging out with Psych Major and Sweaty Fingers?”

“Uh, _duh_. All the losers are livin’ at a fancy resort.”

“Oh yeah.” Jo had watched season one, but for some reason, it hadn’t occurred to her that the Playa Des Losers would be reused for season four. Though it probably had some radioactive twist, like a pool filled with toxic waste instead of actual water.

“Has Dawn said anything aura-ish? Maybe about certain people to watch out for?” 

“Sorry, toots.” Anne Maria shrugged. “Chris said if I mention anythin’ that'll, quote-unquote, 'tip the scales', he'll set my hair on fiyah! Plus, I only listen to ‘bout halfa anything that girl says.”

Jo sighed. “Worth a shot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Without Dakota, bringing Sam back for the challenge isn't helpful. And so I brought back Anne Maria, who I didn't get a chance to write since she got booted in Backstabbers Ahoy. Plus, I liked the idea of Gwen choking on Anne Maria's hairspray, kinda paralleling canon where she choked on Sam's, ahem, flatulence.  
> Also writing the squid scene was hard 'cause I really, REALLY did not want to overuse the word 'tentacle', ya feel me?  
> Chapter title was gonna be 'Maggots of the Caribbean' but I am sick of Maggot puns.


	8. Hit the Snail on the Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo and Lightning discuss their alliance. Gwen stays for dinner, an outburst from Cameron prompts Chris to host an earlier-than-usual elimination ceremony, and Mike finally gets to stargaze.

First order of business was taking a dang shower. When she got out, Zoey stood at the mirror; her makeup bag sat on the countertop.

“Hey Jo. Good job today,” she said as she swabbed a baby wipe across her eyelid.

“No big deal.” Jo smirked. “Leading people to victory is kinda my thing.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Zoey traded the baby wipe for her signature red lipstick. Before she applied it, she added, “Brick, Gwen, Cameron, Mike, and I are gonna play cards in like, ten minutes. Wanna join us?”

As tempting as it was to accept another opportunity to triumph over Brick, Jo had to decline. “Gonna go work out.”

After Zoey finished applying her lipstick, she made several faces in the mirror. After _that_ , she asked, “Right after showering? Isn't that, I don’t know, counterintuitive?”

“Yeah, but Chris’ disgusting challenges are interfering with my routines,” Jo answered sourly, pulling her hoodie over her head. “Even _I_ have standards, and doing sit-ups while smelling like swamp stink _definitely_ sinks below them.”

“Fair enough.” Zoey zipped her makeup bag shut. “Catch you later, then.”

They went their separate ways; Zoey to the mess hall to play cards, and Jo to the Maggots’ cabin to drop off her stuff.

Okay, running around the whole island wearing 120 pounds of penalty belt _definitely_ counted as sufficient exercise. Jo’s real objective for the afternoon was to do recon with her new alliance member.

She barged into the Rat boys’ dorm without knocking. As she had guessed, Lightning was alone inside, shoveling protein powder into his mouth.

“Wassup, bro?” he asked, unphased by her sudden entry.

“Hey, Muscle Mouth. You kinda sucked in the challenge today.”

Lightning nearly choked on his protein. “Sha-not the Lightning’s fault!”

“Whatever. As if I care whose fault it was.” Jo leaned against the doorway, arms folded. “I just want to know who you’re voting for.”

“Cameron, _duh_. Lightning don’t trust _anybody_ who can’t bench above 150.”

“Can’t fault you for that,” Jo remarked. “Guess Bubble Boy’s going home tonight. Can’t say I’ll miss him.”

“I hear ya!” Lightning agreed. “Hey, want some protein powder? It’s like, a symbol of our guys’ pact or something.”

Jo looked at it. “Uh, no thanks.”

“More for me then!” Lightning started eating again. At a loss for words, Jo slammed the door behind her. 

Chef wouldn’t announce dinner for at least another two hours, so Jo elected to go on a run. She lapped the island twice before deciding to head back to camp. Aside from the occasional run-in with a mutant gopher, the run was uneventful.

At least, not until the very end, when she ran past Scott.

“Hey, Freckleface!” Jo skidded to a halt and approached him. He leaned against a tree, whittling something with his shark tooth.

“Oh. Hi Jo,” he said apathetically. “On a run, I see?”

“Yeah, just trainin’.” No matter if she truly believed Scott was sabotaging the Rats, Jo _loved_ screwing with people, which was why she said, “Anyways, I wanted to say thanks for the help in the challenge today.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Scott ceased whittling and raised an eyebrow.

“The arrow in the sand? That was your handiwork, right? And you got Lightning and Cameron to dig in the wrong spot, too.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny what you’re implying.”

“Be that way, then.” Jo shrugged. “So who’re you voting for tonight?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Can’t a girl just be curious?” She smiled broadly, but it failed to convince either of them.

“Probably Cameron,” Scott admitted. “He’s been poking around too much for his own good. He _knows_ stuff.”

“Right choice.” Jo nodded. “I’d do the exact same thing. Y’know, if you got rid of Zoey or Mike after the merge, I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t,” Scott drawled. His gaze dropped to the wood in his hand, and he resumed whittling.

Jo had nothing else to say to Scott, so she turned and hustled back to camp. _Maybe now, Scott’ll stay out of my way, and then we’ll battle it out in the finale._

Honestly, Jo felt confident she could win against _anyone_ in the finale. But she’d felt that way since the beginning of the season, so nothing had changed there. 

Eventually, the loudspeaker announced dinner, and Jo headed into the dining hall. Lightning and Scott weren’t there, but the card game group was already snacking.

“Snails.” Jo looked at the dead slimeballs Chef had dished onto her plate. “You’re seriously giving us _snails_?”

“It’s a delicacy in France,” Chef groused. “Eat up or _starve_.”

“I’ll eat, I’ll eat,” Jo said, just to get Chef off her back. When she got home, the first thing she’d do was eat a decent meal. Right after investing her winnings in the bank, of course.

Mike, Zoey, and Brick sat on one side of the furthest table; Cameron and Gwen sat on the other.

“Okay, I’ll bite.” Jo sat down next to Gwen. “Why the heck are you still here, Gothball?”

Gwen shrugged. “Chris gave Anne Maria and me the choice of leaving immediately or at the end of the day. Anne Maria left, and normally, I would’ve gone too, but talking to Brick and Zoey and Cameron has been kinda cool.”

“Aw, thanks.” Zoey giggled. To Jo, she said, “Gwen was just telling us about _Duncan_.”

“The delinquent dude?” Jo scoffed. “He’s not so tough. I could take him in my sleep.”

Gwen pursed her lips. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear that.”

The conversations turned to other topics.

“Where have you been, captain?” Brick asked curiously.

“Went on a run. Two laps around the island. More than you’ve done in your entire time here,” Jo replied breezily. She held up a snail on her fork. “Bet I can finish this sorry excuse for a meal faster than you can.”

“It is on!”

And just like that, they were engaged in another eating competition.

“What’s goin’ on?” Lightning sat down beside Jo.

“Eating competition,” Zoey explained.

Jo ignored them and continued scarfing down the nasty snails.

“Done!” she yelled thirty seconds later, holding up her snail-less plate.

“Aw,” Brick groaned, gulping down a final snail.

“That was awful,” Gwen snarked. “Almost as bad as watching Owen eat.”

“Who’s Owen?” Lightning asked, looking around. “Wait, are you in the game now, Goth Girl?”

While Brick and Zoey explained no, Gwen was _not_ returning as a competitor, Scott entered the mess hall. With no food to eat, Jo watched lazily as Chef served Scott his snails.

“What’s up, everyone?” Scott asked benignly as he sat down next to Brick.

“Nothin’ much,” Lightning answered. “You gonna eat your snails?”

“Scott!” a voice cried from the other end of the table. Jo looked over; Cameron stood on his chair, dramatically staring down Scott.

“Ugh, what _is_ it?” Scott asked, wrinkling his nose as if he'd stepped in gum.

“I think everyone deserves to know the truth about you!” Cameron went on. “After spending time on the Rats, I’ve come to the conclusion that you _framed_ Dawn for stealing other campers’ belongings. And on top of that, I now believe you have been sabotaging the Rats from within!”

Zoey, Mike, Brick, and Lightning gasped.

“Harsh,” Gwen commented.

Jo shrugged. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag.” 

“Now isn’t the time, Jo.” Brick shot her a look.

Despite the serious allegations, Scott cooley ate another snail. “Pfft, really, Cameron? You’re on the chopping block for helping the other team, and your only line of defense is to accuse _me_ of cheating?”

“That’s not it at all!” Cameron cried. “You deliberately tricked Lightning into digging in the wrong spot so we’d _lose_ today’s challenge, I’m sure of it! In addition, it's reasonable to infer you also purposefully misplaced the gold statue in the mine yesterday.”

“Wait, for real?” Lightning’s eyes widened. “Lightning _knew_ he gave the statue to you!”

“Some team!” Scott looked at Lightning dead-on. “You don’t _really_ believe Pipsqueak, do you, Lightning?”

“Hey, kids!” Mood-ruiner Chris McLean popped his head into the mess hall. “I decided to move up the elimination ceremony to _now_!”

The Rat boys gasped in unison. “What?” 

“Yeah,” Chris chuckled. “I can’t let any of this thrilling tension fizzle out, so no cooldown period for you three. Time’s a-wastin’, so get voting! Gwen! I expect to see you at the dock, too! Ciao!” He disappeared.

“Well, I’ll catch y’all after the campfire ceremony.” Scott cupped his remaining snails in his hands and followed Chris out the door.

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” Cameron scampered after him. 

“Here, Jo, take my snails.” Lightning dumped the rest of his plate onto Jo’s and stood up to leave.

“Good luck!” Jo sing-songed as he passed her. “I know you’ll make the right decision!”

“What’s the right decision?” Brick asked.

“Why don't we watch the ceremony?” Jo suggested.

“I mean, I have to be down there anyway.” Gwen shrugged. “And I’m not even emotionally invested like the rest of you are.”

“Are we allowed to do that?” Zoey asked doubtfully.

Jo sent her an ‘are you serious?’ look. “We don’t need Chris’s permission, Apology Brat!”

Brick started to protest. “I think we do-”

She shushed him with a finger to his mouth. “Shut up! Just follow me, okay?”

Ten minutes later, the sun had just set and the Maggots plus Gwen sat on the hill above the campfire site, mostly hidden behind bushes and shrubbery.

“When is this gonna start?” Mike asked under his breath. 

“I believe the Rats are still voting, sir.” 

“And if you do a Chester impression, I _will_ go ham on you!” Jo added. She’d rather eat another plate of snails than sit in the bushes with a cranky old man.

“Who’s Chester?” Gwen asked.

“You didn’t tell her about your characters?” Jo asked Mike. “They’re, like, your defining characteristic!”

“Hey! There’s more to me than my characters!” Mike shot back, his brow furrowing.

“She’s kinda got a point,” Zoey admitted softly. “We haven’t gone a single day without you showing off one of your acting characters.”

“Can someone _please_ explain to me what the big deal is?” Gwen looked more lost than ever.

“No!” Jo, Zoey, and Mike yelled at the same time.

“Shush! Here come the Rats!” Brick pointed. Everyone shut up as Lightning, Scott, and Cameron filed into the site and sat down on the logs.

“I’m so scared,” Zoey whispered. “What if Cam goes home?”

“It’s gotta be Scott,” Mike reassured her softly. “No way would Lightning keep a cheater around!”

 _Mike has a point_. But then again, Lightning’s mind worked in mysterious ways.

A few minutes later, Chris and Chef arrived.

“Welcome, campers!” Chris said. “Just got back from tallying the votes. Took a _long_ time.”

“How did it take a long time? There were only three,” Scott pointed out sourly.

“Yeah, I got sidetracked rewatching the footage from dinner.” Chris chuckled. “ _Man_ , Cameron’s tell-all exposé was funny. Anyways, tonight’s loser is...” 

“Wait!” Cameron interrupted again. “What about the marshmallow for the eliminated camper?”

“No can do. Brick and Jo ate the last bag while they were visiting Dakota in the infirmary.” Chris rolled his eyes. “ _Maggots_ , amiright?”

Gwen, Mike, and Zoey all stared at Jo and Brick.

“How was _I_ supposed to know those were the same marshmallows Chris uses for the campfires?” Jo hissed.

“Anyways,” Chris continued, and Jo refocused her attention on him, “enough with the delays! Tonight’s eliminated camper is…”

The Rat boys all glanced at each other, varying levels of concern on their faces. Jo knew that suspenseful music would be added post-production, but since she was watching from behind a _bush_ and therefore not fearing for her own safety, the ceremony didn’t feel very exciting.

“...Cameron.”

“What?” Cameron gasped.

While her companions gasped, Jo nodded smugly.

“Lightning, how could you do this?” the tiny teen asked the hulking giant.

“Sorry, shorty.” Lightning repeated verbatim what he had told Jo earlier: “Lightning don’t trust _anybody_ who can’t bench above 150.”

“Hasta la vista.” Scott waved sweetly at Cameron.

“Cameron, the Hurl of Shame awaits,” Chris said. He glanced up at the bushes and made eye contact with Jo. “I’m sure your Maggot friends will meet you there.”

“Oh crap, let’s go.” Jo and the Maggots—and Gwen—hurried to the Dock of Shame. Cameron hugged Mike and Zoey goodbye.

“We’ll get back at Scott for this,” Zoey promised.

“Yeah, he’s going down!” Mike added.

Cameron smiled. “Thanks, guys. And Mike, remember your breathing exercises!”

“You got it, buddy.” Mike flashed him a gap-tooth smile. “You’ve been a great help, Cam!”

“Hurry this _up_ ,” Chris whined. “Get in the stupid catapult already!”

Cameron climbed in, followed by Gwen.

“It was nice meeting you guys.” Gwen waved a pale farewell to the Maggots. 

“Good luck with”—Chris pulled the lever—”aaaah!” Cameron and Gwen screamed as they flew into the night sky.

“Two for the price of one!” Chris addressed the camera. “Come back for even more painful awesomeness next time on Total. Drama. Revenge of the Island!

“Alrighty kiddos, off to bed with you all,” he quipped at the four Maggots. “You’ve got a big day of pain tomorrow, heheh!”

“We get it, you hate us,” Jo grumbled. 

Instead of jogging ahead like usual, she stuck around to listen to Mopey and She-Mopey. 

“I can’t believe Cameron’s gone,” Zoey sighed. “I didn’t talk to Scott much, but he seemed like such an okay person!”

“Scott’s a worm,” Jo added, always happy to find an opportunity to trash-talk her opponent.

“A worm who escaped elimination even though Cameron totally exposed him.” Mike’s frown reminded Jo of a toddler who had just been told he couldn’t get any more ice cream. “Cameron was obviously the better choice over Lightning.”

“Yeah.” “Uh huh.” Brick and Zoey nodded in agreement. Jo stayed silent. 

“I know what’ll cheer us up. How ‘bout that stargazing idea Mike mentioned yesterday?” Brick suggested.

Zoey glanced up at the sky. “The stars _are_ pretty tonight.”

“Cam would’ve told us the names of all of them.” Mike smiled. “Yeah, let’s go stargazing.”

Brick looked at Jo. “You comin’ too, captain?”

“Uh, sure.” Last night, she was definitely against it. But now, well, why not? She could think of worse activities. “Fetch us a flashlight, first. I know _some_ people can’t function without a light source.” 

Brick reddened. “Right away!” 

After the flashlight had been secured, the quartet walked down to the beach, the location where the sky was least obstructed by overhead trees.

They sat in a circle, Jo between Zoey and Brick, and looked up at the sky for a while.

“Isn’t it crazy that just this morning we were being terrorized by a psycho squid?” Mike asked. “Look, I can see a squid right there.” He pointed at a star cluster in the sky.

“What are you, blind? That looks nothing like a squid!” Jo said, squinting. Yeah, she didn’t see any squid.

“You have to use your imagination to fill in the gaps,” Zoey suggested.

“Don’t patronize me, Red.”

“I wasn’t. You don’t have to turn everything into an argument, Jo.”

Brick switched from sitting to lying on the beach. He stared straight up at the sky. “Zoey’s right. There’s no room for antagonism while we’re enjoying the beauty of nature.” 

_Well when you put it like that, it sounds like a frou-frou girly activity_. Jo stuck her tongue out at him, but he was too busy stargazing to notice. She sighed and lay down as well, if not just because she felt tired. Dang, before Total Drama she hadn’t ever been consistently tired the way she was now.

Mike and Zoey started pointing out bogus constellations. Brick joined in from time to time, but for the most part, it was just Mike and Zoey talking.

After Zoey pointed out the ‘Chris eating an ice cream cone’ constellation, Jo started wondering when Mike and Zoey were gonna kiss. And if so, would they give her a warning? ‘Cause she didn’t want to be there when it happened. PDA, blegh. Jo would rather arm wrestle a bear. She'd win, of course. Unless it was a polar bear; those guys were absolutely cutthroat. But what if the polar bear was malnourished and half-starved?

“...Jo?”

“Huh?” She looked up from her bear-wrestling hypothetical musings.

Zoey smiled. “I asked what constellations you see.”

“Uh…” Jo pointed to some random stars above her. “See those four? That’s the briefcase with _my_ million dollars.”

Mike laughed hysterically.

“What’s so funny, Hedgehog Hair?” Jo glared at him. She did _not_ like him at all.

“Nothing, I swear!” he chortled. “I’m just tired. Everything’s funnier when I’m tired.”

Zoey laughed. “Mike’s right.”

 _Mike is also a loser_. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“So do you just not get tired, then?” Brick asked, turning in Jo’s direction.

“Oh, I get tired alright, I just don’t turn into a maniacal mess like Giggles over there.”

Zoey and Mike both laughed at the nickname.

“Giggles,” Mike repeated in a daze. “Heheh, good one.”

“I think that’s a sign we should turn in for the night,” Brick said. “Glad to see your spirits have been boosted, soldiers.”

Zoey lazily saluted. “Aye aye, captain!”

“Hey!” Jo protested. “ _I’m_ the captain!”

“Maybe you can be the general,” Zoey said. “General Jo.”

“Has a nice ring to it,” Jo conceded. “I’ll take it.”

Brick got up and offered a helping hand to Mike, Zoey, and finally Jo. She didn’t _need_ help getting up, obviously, but if it let him feel helpful, so be it.

Jo held the flashlight as they walked back to camp; Zoey seemed to have picked up Cameron’s knack for talking very loudly because that’s what she did the entire time.

After finishing a story involving a telescope and three raccoons, Zoey asked, “Do you guys know what I just realized?”

“No,” Jo said at the same time Mike and Brick asked, “What?”

“This is totally a nice Final Four group,” Zoey said, smiling shyly. “That is, if you guys are up for it.”

“Definitely! This is awesome,” Mike agreed. “Maggots for the win!”

“Three Maggots and one Maggot-turned-Rat-turned-Maggot.” Brick elbowed Jo, and she actually _laughed_. Wow, she was more tired than she thought.

“That’s McLean for ya,” she said, ignoring Zoey’s ‘Final Four’ idea. “He’s always throwing in crummy twists.”

The team arrived at the cabins; Jo switched off the flashlight.

“Good night, everybody!” Brick saluted the girls before he marched into the boys’ room.

Mike’s farewell was directed specifically at Zoey. “Sweet dreams.”

Jo headed inside before anything disgusting occurred. 

_Honestly_ , she thought as she kicked off her shoes, _if I have my way, Mike’s going home next_. Mutant Maggots Final Four her butt; Mike’s weirdo characters made him a liability. Plus, once the merge hit, he and Zoey would be a dangerous duo; splitting them up was just common sense.

“Wasn’t that so _great_ ,” Zoey gushed once the girls’ door was closed. 

“Mmmhmm,” Jo mumbled, snuggling in as best she could under her sorry excuse for a blanket. Zoey kept talking, but Jo was asleep by the third sentence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since in canon, Dakota stuck around camp until the elimination ceremony, I gave that position to Gwen. We really were robbed of a Gwen & Brick friendship, and Gwen & Zoey should've interacted more in canon. Stupid All-Stars.  
> After days of suspicion, Cam finally exposes Scott at the eleventh hour. Too bad Lightning and Chris got in the way of justice, smh my head. Cam's elimination will pose interesting ramifications on the remainder of the season. 
> 
> Elimination order so far: Staci, Dakota, B, Anne Maria, Dawn, Sam, Cameron  
> Mergers: Zoey, Mike, Lightning, Scott, Jo, Brick


	9. E-merging Tensions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris merges the teams. Jo's alliance gets her thrown in prison.

The piercing shrill of an air raid siren practically knocked Jo out of bed.

“What the _heck_?” she snarled, scrambling to the cabin door wearing only the oversized t-shirt and basketball shorts she called pajamas.

Zoey followed her outside, eyes wide in confusion. “What’s going on?” 

Mike strolled out of the boys’ room decked head-to-toe in banana-yellow flannel. A moment later, his roommate followed.

“Reporting for duty, _sir_!” Brick blindly ran out, slammed into the railing, and fell off the porch with a _thud_. 

Jo peered over the railing at her dazed teammate, who also happened to be the only fully dressed member of the Mutant Maggots. “Did you _sleep_ in that?”

Brick frowned defensively. “It never hurts to be prepared!”

As the siren noise faded away, the Rats caught Jo’s eye. Lightning and Scott stood on their own porch, dressed for the day, which meant—

“Wait, did we oversleep?”

“That makes sense,” Zoey replied. “We _were_ up kinda late last night.”

“Zip it!” Chris’s voice commanded. “I didn’t dig out this cool siren for you kids to whine about sleeping in. At least it served its purpose, heheh.”

“Where is that jerk?” Jo muttered, looking around for the unseen host.

Mike pointed upwards and whispered, “I think he’s on the roof.”

Jo, Mike, and Zoey joined Brick on the ground. From this angle, she now had eyes on Chris; a dumb army helmet complemented his dumb grin. Jo wanted to knock both off his head.

All of Chris’s prior hostility evaporated when he spoke again. “Today we have a special surprise!” 

“Fantasy football?” Lightning guessed excitedly.

Brick lit up. “Care packages from home?”

Zoey stifled a yawn. “Espressos?”

“Helicopter bear hunt?” Scott yelled.

“Nope! It’s merge day! No more Team Rat; no more Team Maggot.” Chris hopped off the roof. “From now on it’s every man, woman, and Brick for himself.”

“Hey!” As Brick whined, Jo locked eyes with Lightning across the campground.

 _Time to kick this alliance junk into high gear_. The merge was an utter relief for Jo. She no longer had to waste time playing nice with Zoey and Mike; Scott was public enemy number one, and they wouldn’t think about going for her until he was off the island.

“Wow, this just got so much more real,” Mike commented. “Good luck everybody.”

“Don’t need it,” Jo answered. It might’ve seemed cocky, but it was true. She knew what she was doing; nothing could phase her now.

Chris pulled a walkie talkie out of nowhere. “ _Chef_! Drop it like it’s hot!”

Jo glanced up just in time to see a giant grey cube falling from the sky.

“ _Aaah_!” She dove out of the way, as did the other Maggots.

 _Crash_! Jo shielded her eyes from the scattering debris. A stray wood chipping clipped her shoulder; she winced.

When the dust settled, Jo opened her eyes and stared at the remains of the obliterated cabin. Chris had _not_ just done that.

“You crushed our cabin with a block of solid concrete?” Zoey seethed.

“Had a bunch leftover from building a monument to myself. I call it _Mount Chrismore_.”

Jo’s eye twitched. “Shut up about your dumb monument. You’re telling me I have to switch rooms _again_?”

“Yes, yes I am,” Chris confirmed, unfettered by the pure loathing in her voice. “You’ll all have to share one cruddy little cabin.”

Jo was beside herself. “You should’ve crushed the Rats’ cabin! They only have two people to our four!”

“Shoulda, coulda, woulda. _Didn’t_.”

As Jo started listing murder weapons in her head, Brick placed a hand on her shoulder. “Jo—”

“Don’t touch me, Sir Leaks-a-lot!” She slapped away his hand and sympathy.

Chris deigned to give them a tiny pickaxe before screwing off to do something dumb, like stare at his reflection for two straight hours.

“Um, anybody know how to get into a demolished building using a pickaxe?” Zoey held it up the way one would hold a tiny teacup.

Brick looked over at Mike. “Maybe Manitoba Smith would be of some use to us?”

Mike’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Ahahahah. No, I don’t think he would. I’m trying to retire my characters, remember?”

Zoey smiled, Brick raised his eyebrow, and Jo just groaned. “Give me the stupid pickaxe! I want my hoodie back!”

She snatched the pickaxe from Zoey’s hand, climbed to the roof, and hacked violently at the shingling. 

“Jo?” Brick popped up behind her. “Are you alright, captain?”

“I’m _fine_ ,” she grumbled. “Just tired. And annoyed.” And completely out of her element; Jo’s agitation only grew the longer she sat outside in only a t-shirt. She _really_ wanted her hoodie back.

“Chris is being completely unreasonable,” Brick agreed. “Did you want some help with that? Mike and Zoey are on the other side of the cabin, so I came up here.”

A memory floated to the surface of Jo’s consciousness. _You shouldn’t be afraid to let others help you, or to help them in return. It’s a life skill._

What the heck? That conversation had been days ago. Well, screw you, Dawn-in-her-head. Jo wasn’t afraid of help.

Jo scooted over so Brick could sit next to her. “Go nuts, Brick-for-brains.”

After a few minutes of pragmatic hammering, the roof gave way. Jo jumped inside first, followed by Brick, who fell flat on his face. 

“Wow,” she remarked, looking around her and Zoey’s room. Light filtered in through their newly minted entranceway, and more dust particles than usual floated through the air. “This place looks so different when there’s a _cement block_ in the ceiling.”

“Owww,” Brick groaned in response.

The first things Jo located were her hoodie and sweatpants, both sitting on the stool underneath the window. She pulled them on while Brick collected Zoey’s things on the other side of the room. 

“So,” he said casually. “Any particular reason you were so anxious to get your hoodie back?”

Jo had moved on to shoving the rest of her belongings into her duffel bag. “What? No! You sound like Dawn, jeez. Not everything is that deep.

“It’s just comfortable,” she added as an afterthought. “And familiar.”

Brick nodded. “Completely understandable.”

“Why do you care?” She slung her duffel bag over her shoulder for the third time in four days.

“I was just making conversation, Jo.”

He walked over, Zoey’s backpack in hand. They both glanced up at the hole in the ceiling.

“Drop the bags and get on my shoulders,” she ordered, letting her own duffel bag fall to the floor.

“Yes, ma’am.” Brick set Zoey’s backpack on the floor and climbed onto Jo’s shoulders.

“Oh my _gosh_.” She almost gagged. “Your boots smell awful.”

“It’s the smell of war!” Brick replied indignantly, grabbing a hold of the edge of the roof hole. “And probably toxic waste at this point.”

“Whatever, Sergeant Smellyshoes.” Jo concentrated on breathing through her mouth. “Just climb out already!”

Brick pulled himself out of the hole, relieving Jo’s nostrils. Next, she passed up hers and Zoey’s belongings.

“How are _you_ getting out?”

“That’s where you come in.” Jo grabbed the stool from the other side of the room, positioned it directly underneath the exit hole, and hopped on top; the stool added an extra foot and a half of height.

“Okay, now you pull me up.” Jo narrowed her eyes. “And if you drop me, I _will_ kill you.”

Brick nodded a little too quickly. “Understood!” 

She stood on her tiptoes as they locked arms. With some effort, Brick pulled her out of the ceiling. 

_This is never gonna happen again_ , Jo thought. Her stomach pressed against the crudely-cut shingling edges. “Ow!”

“Jo?” Brick furrowed his brow in concern.

“I can handle a little pain,” Jo grunted. She twisted slightly and blindly searched for footing. Eventually, she found it by hooking her left foot over the nailing planks layered beneath the shingling. Brick released her, and she climbed out in the least-graceful way possible.

“Hey, thanks,” she said, offering a conciliatory smile.

“No problem at all,” Brick replied cheerfully. “That was a successful mission by all accounts.”

“Ahuh.” She grabbed her duffel bag and nudged Zoey’s. “Now go give this to Red before she starts to cry.”

Getting settled into the new room was easy: Jo threw her duffel bag on her old bed and left for breakfast two seconds later.

“Lightning!” she sidled up beside him in the breakfast line. “Ready to kick butt in this challenge?”

“Sha-you know it!”

Chef dumped a scoop of gruel into Jo’s bowl; she scowled. “Hey, we already had gruel last week!”

He gave her the stink eye. “Ain’t you ever heard of recycling?”

When Jo won the million, she’d probably sue Chef for attempted poisoning. 

Scott was already seated, so Jo and Lightning pointedly sat at the unoccupied table. They ate in silence for a few minutes until Brick, Zoey, and Mike came in. The latter two were engaged in a conversation about some nerdy RPG. Brick was about to sit down next to Lightning when the uber-jock stopped him.

“Sorry, this table is for alliance members only!” Lightning exclaimed confidently.

Jo facepalmed. She hadn’t sworn him to secrecy, but it was _implied_ that the other three should remain in the dark about their partnership. _My bad for starting an alliance with the dumbest person here._

“Alliance already? That was fast.” Brick looked between Jo and Lightning.

“Nothing personal, Soggy McGhee,” Jo said nonchalantly. “But hey, I’m sure Red and Pointy will let you third wheel.” She pointed her spoon at the couple in question. Instead of sitting with Scott at the other table, they had chosen to eat together on the porch. Their coupley-ness was more nauseating than Chef’s cooking.

“Astute observation. Best of luck to you both during today’s challenge.” Brick gave them a smile and headed off to sit with Zoey and Mike.

When Lightning finished eating and began monologuing about his biceps, Jo wondered if maybe she should’ve let Brick stick around after all.

Breakfast ended early because Chris needed to “set up for the challenge.” The final six congregated outside the mess hall; Jo stood between Jockstrap and Sergeant Stinky. After a few minutes of boredom, Chris arrived. The interns wheeled out Chris’ signature portable TV.

Thirty seconds later, Chef wheeled out Chris’ signature delinquent.

“I saved an extra painful challenge demo just for him,” Chris said smugly.

“Eat _dirt_ , McLean,” Duncan spat through his muzzle.

 _My thoughts exactly_ , Jo thought, snickering.

Chris ran through the basics of the challenge—find a key, crash a cart, et cetera—and then released Duncan for the challenge demo.

“Later losers!” Duncan laughed maniacally and sprinted in the other direction.

Once he was out of sight, Chris frowned. “Okay. Probably should have seen that coming.” 

“Ya _think_?” Jo cackled. “Aw man, that’s the funniest thing I’ve seen on this stupid island.”

“How do _you_ know about that?”

Mike’s loud squawk prompted Jo and the other competitors turned around. A grinning Scott linked his meaty arm around Mike’s scrawny shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Zoey raised a brow.

“Nothing!” Mike exclaimed hurriedly.

“Just havin’ some guy talk,” Scott added.

“Hey!” Lightning said to Jo. “Maybe _we_ should have some guy talk.”

Jo growled; Brick laughed.

“Quit talking, you have a challenge to start!” Chris chided. In a more professional, host-like tone, he said, “Players! Commence smashing and/or grabbing...”

Jo crouched down like they were starting a track race, as did Lightning. First place, here they come.

“Go!” Chris dropped his arm, and Jo and Lightning sprinted into the mess hall, nearly tripping over each other as they ran through the kitchen doors.

“Alrighty, _teammate_ , let’s check here first.” Jo wandered over to the cupboards on the left side of the room. She yanked on a handle.

“Look inside,” she ordered Lightning. He peered into the cupboard.

“No keys in here!” he reported.

“Well,” Jo mused, “at least this part of the challenge isn’t dangerous.” She slammed the door shut, ready to look in another location.

And that’s when she saw the giant cockroach sitting on her arm.

“Aaah!” she screamed. Her yelling startled the cockroach and it launched itself onto her face.

“Get it off!” Jo flailed her arms wildly. The roach’s tiny legs tickled her face. 

“Lightning’s gotcha!” Lightning yanked on the cockroach. It didn’t budge. He planted a foot on Jo’s abdomen for extra anchorage. Jo would’ve punched him if not for the fact that it worked. Lightning wrenched the cockroach off, sending Jo sprawling to the ground. 

The demonic beast sailed across the room and right onto Mike’s lower half. He screamed and wiggled around, trying to get the nasty bug off.

Jo would’ve laughed at Scrawny’s misfortune if she hadn’t been trying to recollect herself. The tiny little feelers inching up and down her face… she shuddered. 

“Dude, get it together! We got a challenge to win!” Lightning rummaged around the top shelf.

“Easy for _you_ to say,” Jo shot back. “You’re not the one who just got kicked in the stomach and assaulted by a roach!”

Lightning didn’t hear her; he was too busy pulling out a key. “Sha-score! Lightning takes the lead.”

“Hey!” Jo yelled as he bounded off to find Chris and Chef. “That’s supposed to be _my_ key.”

But she’d save the sulking for a later confessional; for now, Jo needed a key, and quick. She surveyed the room; Zoey had her face in a water bucket, Brick’s legs stuck out from beneath the table, and Mike and Scott were breaking plates.

_Let’s see. If I were a maniacal washed-out host who loved torturing teenagers, where would I hide a key?_

Her eyes landed on the trash bin.

“Welp, guess I’m doing this.” She shoved her hand in and dug blindly around. After a few moments, her fingertips grazed something thin and metallic. 

Jo smiled when she pulled out a silver key. “Oh yeah!” She sprinted out of the kitchen and beelined to Chef’s go-kart junkyard. Lightning and Chris stood at the entrance, the former kissing his biceps, the latter holding a crate of spray paints.

“Jo. Catch.” Chris tossed an orange box at her.

“What’s this?”

“I’ll explain once the challenge begins,” Chris replied breezily. He held out the crate. “Also, pick a paint.”

The selection wasn’t a hard decision; Jo immediately grabbed the black one. Black was a no-nonsense and threatening color, just like her.

“Nice choice, dude,” Lightning said. He held up his own spray can. “Red and black go awesome together.”

Jo didn’t see why it mattered. “I guess.”

The remaining four contestants arrived within seconds of each other. Zoey picked a pink paint; Brick, army green; Mike, yellow; and Scott, blue.

Once they were all lined up, Chris began his long-winded explanation that boiled down to ‘tag three landmarks and win’; easy enough.

“Oh, and the go-karts? You’ll have to steal them. From _Chef_.”

Jo and her competition looked over at the hulking man responsible for their cruddy breakfast. Chef bared his teeth at them. Brick squeaked in terror.

Chris added, “The winner gets to choose who will be eliminated. Heheh.”

Mike audibly gasped.

Jo looked down the line. She was sure nobody would vote for her until she caught Scott’s eye; the ginger smirked and drew a finger across his throat.

 _Bye bye_ , he mouthed.

Her scowl deepened. On one hand, she was flattered that Scott rightfully recognized her as the biggest threat to his game. On the other hand, no way was _Scott_ gonna win the million. Not on her watch.

“And _go_!” Chris stepped aside to let chaos break loose. 

Nobody moved for a solid minute. A glowering Chef acted as a one-man barrier between the teens and the go-karts, and no one was willing to cross it.

Jo didn’t have _time_ for a stalemate. She had a challenge to win.

“ _Oooh_ , Chef’s gonna stare us to death,” she taunted him, stepping forward. “Big deal.”

“Nobody touches my stuff.” Chef’s voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. “ _Nobody_.”

He snapped his fingers.

Squirrels swamped Chef’s carts. They chittered menacingly and blinked their beady eyes, charging up to attack.

Jo gasped. _Crud_.

“Laser squirrels!” Mike cried.

The squirrels unleashed their lasers. Electric jolts shot out in random directions. Jo dodged an electric charge, running straight into Brick in the process.

“Move it, Dampypants!” she yelled, pushing him into Mike as another laser barely missed singeing both of them.

“Jo! This way!” Lightning beckoned her. Without thinking, she ran in his direction. Lasers burned the ground at her feet.

 _Man these squirrels suck at aiming_.

Instead of running straight for the go-karts, Lightning sprinted around the perimeter. Jo followed him until he stopped short at a wall of tires.

“We can climb up!” he suggested. “That way, we’ll have the high ground!”

A sinister voice stopped them in their tracks. “Game over! You’re coming with me.”

Chef scooped them up, Jo under his left arm and Lightning under his right.

“Put me down!” Jo demanded as he strutted across the go-kart yard.

Her partner struggled against Chef’s iron grip. “Lightning will not be manhandled like this!”

Chef chuckled, not bothering to answer their hopeless pleas. Moments later, he threw both of them into a makeshift jail cell and locked the door behind them.

“You can’t do this!” Jo gripped the iron bars, glaring daggers at Chef.

“Yeah! Lightning can’t be caged!”

“Tell it to yo’ prison guard!” Chef grinned and pointed to their prison guard, chained to a pole several meters away. Fang roared and clawed at the air.

Jo and Lightning gasped.

 _Great. This jailbreak just went from mega-hard to impossible_.

Chef cackled and stalked away to torment someone else.

She ripped her gaze from Fang and looked back at the go-karts. Brick and Zoey had left already. Mike was tying Scott’s go-kart to the back of his own… wait, why was Pointy helping _Scott_?

 _Blackmail_ , Jo reasoned, but she didn’t pursue the thought because she had other things to do, namely, escaping.

“Okay, Jockstrap,” Jo said, pacing. “We need a play to bust out of here. Can you bend these bars?”

“Like straw!” Lightning hesitated. “What about that guy?”

Jo pursed her lips, looking at Fang. Her first thought was to throw Lightning to the shark and run the other way. But even though he was incredibly annoying, she needed him alive as an ally against Scott and the practically-married Mike and Zoey.

Which left her with the much-less-fun option of negotiation.

“Leave Fin Face to me.” Jo glowered at Fang.

Lightning got to work on the bars. He grunted as he bent the metal; Jo tapped her foot impatiently. After a few minutes of exertion, the deed was done.

“Nice work,” Jo commented.

“Sha-bam!” Lightning kissed his bicep. “Now get the shark dude out of the way!”

Jo peeked out of the doorway. Fang barked at her. She waved at him, ignoring the agitation gnawing at her stomach. _Remember, Jo. Confidence is key_.

“Hey, Fang!” She grinned at the giant shark. “If you don’t _eat us_ , we’ll take you to Scott!” 

Bloodlust filled Fang’s beady eyes, and he nodded vigorously.

Jo stepped out of the jail cell and motioned for Lightning to follow. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She tossed her key to Lightning. “Okay, Protein Puff, find the faster go-kart while I unleash the shark.”

“You got it!” Lightning scurried over to the two remaining go-karts.

Jo approached Fang hesitantly; despite their truce, the fact remained that Fang remained an unpredictable mutated freak.

“Okay, buddy. I’m just gonna let you go and then we’re _all_ gonna take a ride together!” With a forceful tug, Jo unearthed the stake that had held Fang’s chain. The freed shark rubbed his hands together in delight.

“Jo!” Lightning pulled up in his go-kart. “Let’s move it!” 

“Woo hoo!” Jo hopped into the passenger’s seat. Fang clambered in behind them, and Lightning floored it. 

“I’ll navigate,” she declared, holding up the GPS for Lightning’s viewing pleasure. 

Zoey’s and Brick’s markers were already leaving the second landmark; Mike’s and Scott’s weren’t far behind. Great. Just great. 

Before Jo could point out they’d need to double time it in order to win, a video message popped up on screen.

“Listen. Up. Three landmarks. Wasn’t. Tough enough.” Jo raised an eyebrow at Chris’ stilted speech. “ _So_ I. Added. A _fourth_.”

In the center of the map, a fourth red dot blinked into existence while Chris mumbled some unintelligible garbage. “Now. Get. Tagging. And don’t. Spare. The paint. McLeaaaan out.”

The video disappeared. Jo just stared. “Well that was weird.”

“Sha-dang, at least that gives us a chance to catch up!” Lightning pointed out. 

Jo grinned. For once, Jockstrap made a compelling argument. “Step on the gas, QB!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jo? Switching rooms for the third time? No, it's not overdone at all.  
> I'm 90% sure the 'e-merge' pun has been used before. I don't care; it's a convenient pun.


	10. Long Story Short

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mount Chrismore explodes. Brick catches Jo up on everything she missed, and the elimination ceremony is... interesting.

Fang stayed in the car when Jo and Lightning arrived at the rock wall. A pink heart, yellow check mark, blue X, and green star already adorned the landmark.

“Lightning sha-scores!” Lightning sprayed a red lightning bolt. 

“Hmm.” No time to be all symbolic; Jo drew an infinity symbol underneath Zoey’s heart and hopped back into the go kart. Simple as that, they were on to the next landmark. 

Tagging the spooky tree was uneventful. At the third, Jo put her rock climbing skills to good use and scaled the totem pole no problem. She sprayed her infinity symbol and slid back down.

Chris drove up in his golf cart while she was waiting for Lightning to come down.

“Um. Where is everyone?” Chris blinked in confusion.

 _Wow, our host is an idiot_. Jo glared at him as Lightning jumped from the top of the totem to the driver’s seat.

“Going for the last landmark,” Lightning answered Chris, “the extra one that you added!”

“ _Duh_ ,” Jo spat as they drove away. Lightning held up a hand, and she high fived him. 

Then they drove straight through a bush.

Jo spit leaves out of her face. “Keep your eyes on the road, Doofus!” 

“Please, Lightning’s an _expert_ driver!” Two leaves stuck to his face like extra-bushy eyebrows.

“Have you even taken driver’s ed?”

“...No, but Lightning is _still_ an expert driver!”

 _Maybe I should’ve driven_. Well, too late now. Jo checked the GPS; the other four markers were narrowing in on the fourth landmark.

“Turn right here!” she shouted. “We’re taking a shortcut!”

“Sha-bam!” Lightning swerved.

A minute later, their destination appeared in view. Scott scaled the large concrete head of Chris McLean. It was the dumbest thing Jo had ever encountered. 

The second dumbest thing was Lightning driving off a literal cliff. The ground disappeared beneath them; all three occupants were thrown from the cart.

“Aaah!” Jo screamed. _If I die ‘cause of Lightning, I’ll never let him hear the end of it_.

“Lightning and Jo for the win!” Lightning yelled, whipping out his spray paint. “Sha-b-b-b-bam!” He drenched Chris’ face in a painted red lightning bolt.

Jo tucked and rolled right before she hit the ground. She didn’t stick the landing, but at least none of her bones were broken. Most importantly, Lightning had tagged the landmark before Scott, and she was safe.

“Jo!” Brick ran up.

“Are you alright?” Zoey added from where she stood with a shirtless Mike several feet away.

“Fine,” Jo mumbled, rubbing her ankle. Ugh. If she left the island with a cast of any kind, she’d kill Chris for his stupid challenges. And speak of the devil—

“My _face_!” Chris arrived on the scene in his golf cart. With each word, anger seeped deeper into his voice. “My beautiful fifty-foot concrete _face_!” He slapped Chef. “Did you _have_ to stop at the drive-through?”

Jo pulled herself to her feet. “Now McLame knows how the rest of us feel all day every day.”

“Chris, when can Lightning make his vote?” Lightning asked, tugging on Chris’s pants like a spoiled child asking for candy.

“No, no vote for you.” Chris’s following words wiped away Lightning’s smile. “You fell for an obvious prank by _Duncan_!”

“Sorry, bro!” The delinquent himself appeared behind two rocks. “That wasn’t me.”

He held up a remote and tapped a red button.

 _Boom_.

Mount Chrismore spontaneously exploded. For the second time that morning, Jo found herself dodging debris.

Duncan smiled smugly. “Now that? That was me.” His ensuing hyena-like laughter was infectious; Chef and Mike guffawed at the ‘wut just happened’ look on Chris’ face.

“Nice work, Juvie Reject!” Jo was also near hysterics. “Chris _totally_ deserved that!”

As the laughter died down, Fang ambled by, Scott’s skinny legs dangling from his mouth. A puff of blue spray paint caused Fang to spit out his dinner.

“Aw come on!” Jo complained as the mutant shark wiped down his tongue. “Finish him off!”

“Okay! Okay, everybody.” Chris clapped his hands together, drawing the attention of all the campers and Chef. “Competitors, please return to camp _pronto_. Chef and I have a PTA meeting with Duncan’s parole officer.”

“But who won the challenge?” Mike asked. 

“I’ll announce it at the campfire ceremony,” Chris said flatly. “I’d think long and hard about who you want to vote for, just in case.”

Jo and Lightning stuck together on the way back to camp. Lightning sulked that Chris hadn’t let him vote. Obviously, Jo hadn’t won. And as much as that sucked, right now her main concern was figuring out who would be casting the sole vote tonight.

The campers dispersed when they got back to camp. 

“We’re going on a walk,” Mike announced, referring to Zoey and himself. 

“Congratulations,” Jo said dryly.

“Lightning is gonna get some protein.” He dashed off to the boys’ cabin.

“Bathroom,” Scott said curtly as he stalked past Jo. 

“Hey, what’s with the pink?” Jo pointed at Scott’s face; splotches of pink spray paint covered his forehead and eye area.

In response, Scott leered at her and hurried to the washroom.

Now Jo and Brick stood alone in the center of the campground. Honestly, she couldn’t have planned it better.

“So—”

She cut him off. “Let’s head to the mess hall so you can fill me in on all the junk I missed while I was trapped in Chef’s ridiculous prison.”

“Uh, okay.”

A few minutes later, Jo sat on the kitchen table, munching on a bag of chips. Turns out, Chef _did_ have a secret stash of edible food. Brick stood across from her, eating beef jerky.

“Alright, start from the go-kart part,” she instructed, shoving her hand into the chip bag.

“Zoey and I were in the lead for the majority of the challenge,” Brick explained. “Mike was helping Scott because Scott was blackmailing him.”

Jo leaned in, intrigued. “What dirt did Dirtboy have on him?”

“I’ll get to that in a moment. After we tagged the first rock wall, Zoey and I formed a temporary alliance to ensure Scott’s defeat. We maintained our lead until the third landmark, at which point the enemy arrived while I was scaling the totem. Scott was about to knock me off, but Zoey valiantly disoriented him by spraying his face with paint.”

“ _Apology Brat_ did that?” A chip dropped from Jo’s hand. “I didn’t know she had it in her!”

“Zoey was adamant about avenging Cameron’s elimination.” Brick bit into his jerky strip. “Can’t say I blame her, but in any case, Scott got ahead of us. When Zoey and I arrived at Mount Chrismore, Mike had been knocked out.”

“The only good Mike is an unconscious one,” Jo said sagely. Brick frowned at her. “What? Guy’s annoying!”

“Mike happens to be a friend of mine!”

“Right, my bad. Just keep telling the story.” She waved a hand.

“Mike had some sort of spasm, and when he woke up he confessed his feelings to Zoey.” Brick wiped away a tear. “It was _beautiful_.”

Jo made a face. “Okay, I’m glad I missed that.”

“Also, Mike has Dissociative Identity Disorder. Scott found out from Cameron yesterday, and he held it over Mike’s head during the challenge.”

“Woah woah woah. Back up! What the heck is Dissociative Identity Disorder?” 

“DID used to be called Multiple Personality Disorder. All Mike’s characters are actually split states of consciousness that splintered as a result of trauma.”

 _Guess Dawn wasn’t the only psychology major on this island_. “You sure seem knowledgeable about it.”

“Took Psychology last year,” Brick said. “Passed with flying colors.”

Something about his tone compelled Jo to one-up him. “Oh really? Well, I took Sociology last year, and I got a perfect score on every test.” Yeah, that was a lie.

“I haven’t missed a day of school since the seventh grade!”

“Okay, that’s not even impressive, that’s just nerdy.”

Brick wilted a bit, and she took pity on him. “Anyway, who’s the winner of the challenge? _You_?”

“Well, I _was_ the first person to tag the third monument.” He perked him up. “Assuming Chris doesn’t have any other tricks up his sleeve, yeah. I guess I am the winner!”

“Congrats.” Because he wasn’t within punching distance, Jo opted to lightly kick him instead. “Who’s getting your vote?”

“Scott, of course! I promised Zoey.”

“Are you _sure_ you don’t wanna vote for Mike instead?” Jo pressed.

“What about the Maggot Final Four deal we discussed last night?” 

“I never agreed to that.”

“Why would you keep Scott around over Mike?”

“First off, Mike’s personalities are annoying. The only one who’s even kinda useful is Svetlana, and I haven’t seen her around in days.

“Second,” she added, “Mike and Zoey are pretty much dating now.”

“I’m not following.” Brick looked lost.

“Didn’t you watch season one? Heather spelled it out pretty well. Boyfriend and girlfriend is just a fancy way of saying alliance.”

“But breaking them apart after they just got together is mean!” Brick protested.

“That’s life, General Jerky,” Jo replied snarkily. Oh, that was _another_ positive: if Mike got booted, she wouldn’t have to see any gross PDA.

She hopped down from the countertop and went to retrieve another snack as Brick asked, “How would _you_ feel if your boyfriend got voted out?”

“What kinda question _is_ that? I don’t have a boyfriend, and if I did, I’d probably be the one causing his elimination!” Jo snickered as she rummaged around the snack stash. “It’s like what I told Zoey when I got switched to the Rats: this _isn’t a dating show_. But I guess no one listens to my good advice.” 

She snatched a bag of pretzels and turned around; Brick stared at her thoughtfully.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he answered. “Just considering battle strategies.”

Jo chuckled. “You and your military lingo. Wanna share these pretzels?”

She offered the bag to him. Side by side, they leaned against the wall, munching on pretzels. It was pretty chill until Chef barged through the door.

“Don’t you kids learn _anything_?” he hollered. “ _Nobody_ touches my _stuff_!”

“So you’ve said,” Jo muttered sarcastically. She’d had enough of Chef’s crap for the day.

Chef grabbed the nearest butcher knife.

“We were just leaving!” Brick squeaked. 

They scurried out of the kitchen before Chef did any serious damage.

“I get the feeling we’re not getting dinner tonight,” Jo commented once they were safely back at the cabin.

“Aw, I was looking forward to it,” Brick pouted.

Lightning walked out of the boys’ room, licking protein powder off his fingers. “Wassup, dudes?”

“I’m not a dude,” Jo grumbled.

“Just had a close encounter of the Chef kind,” Brick told him.

“Cool. Wanna do a pushup contest?”

* * *

Lightning won the pushup contest, but only because Jo let him win. She still felt tired, and as long as she did better than Brick, she found no reason to use _all_ her strength. So after passing Brick’s record of 55, Jo quit at 60 instead of surpassing Lightning’s 70.

As it turned out, letting Lightning win was a bad idea; he spent the next ten minutes bragging about it. Eventually, Jo excused herself and went to the confessional just to yell about Lightning. 

“Sometimes he’s tolerable, like when he busted us out of prison,” she commented, staring down the camera. “And sometimes he’s _infuriating_ , like when he got us tossed into prison in the first place!”

When she had run out of insulting nicknames for Jockstrap, Jo returned to the cabin. Surprise surprise, Lightning was _still_ talking. Brick looked like he wanted to cut his ears off.

Jo slammed the door shut behind her. “Put a sock in it. Who are you, Staci?”

The reference flew over his head. “Who?”

“The sorry loser who got kicked off first?” Jo raised an eyebrow. “You’re gonna get kicked off next if you don’t sha-shut up.”

“Bro, please! Ain’t no one gonna vote the Lightning off!” Lightning smugly leaned back against the bunk bed. “Plus, we’re in an alliance, so that’s like, double the victory!”

“Well I’m gonna kick you out if you don’t stop assaulting my eardrums,” Jo shot back.

“No way are you getting to the finale without the Lightning!” He frowned at her.

Brick coughed. “Right here, guys.”

“C’mon, Brightning, we can’t discuss our top-secret strategies with the enemy sitting right there!” Jo told Lightning indignantly. To Brick, she added, “I’m kidding. Our only strategy is to kick butt, but that’s just a given.”

The ensuing conversation was much less annoying now that Lightning had shut up. They hung around until Chef called everyone to dinner. As Jo had predicted, when she walked through the dinner line with Brick and Lightning, Chef only gave food to Lightning. 

“Are you seriously gonna starve us?” she snarked. 

“I ain’t starving y’all if you ate earlier,” Chef pointed out sternly.

“That’s against the Geneva Convention!” Brick protested. “At least, I think it is. I—”

“Jo! Brick!” Mercifully, Zoey waved them over to her table, where she sat next to Mike. “You can have some of my food, if you want.”

Two slices of pizza lay on Zoey’s plate. Jo had no idea what the toppings were, and she didn’t want to guess.

“Not hungry, thanks.” Jo sat down.

“Brick?” Zoey asked.

“If you’re sure you’re not going to finish your rations, I’ll take it.”

Zoey slid the pizza to him. Lightning sat down next to Jo, making it five campers at one table and Scott at the other. That dude was _so_ screwed, Jo figured.

Dinner could be summarized as follows: Mike and Zoey flirted, Brick and Lightning ate, and Jo took a catnap until it was time to head down to the campfire ceremony.

Zoey, Mike, and Scott filed into the back row; Lightning, Jo, and Brick sat in the front. Jo’s hands rested on her hips as she waited for Chris to just _get on with it_ already.

“The real final landmark was the totem pole, so immunity and today’s sole vote go to the first person who completely tagged it: Brick!”

“Thank you for this honor, sir!” Brick saluted as he stood up. Jo rolled her eyes. 

“Brick,” Chris said, smiling in anticipation of the inevitable drama, “eliminate the player of your choice.” In a stage whisper, Chris added, “ _Choose Lightning_!”

Brick didn’t hesitate. “As per my agreement with Zoey, I’ve decided to eliminate Scott.”

“Woo hoo!” Zoey cheered, high fiving Mike. 

“Seeya later, Freckle Freak.” Jo leered at the farmboy. Sure, Mike would’ve been her first choice, but who would pass up a chance to make fun of Scott? 

Surprisingly composed, Scott stood up. “Sorry, gals and guys, but I ain’t going _anywhere_.”

He pulled out a wooden item and held it up for all to see.

Dang it, why did Jo always forget about the stupid immunity idol?!

Brick’s mouth fell open. Zoey and Mike gasped in unison. Chris’s Cheshire grin widened.

“The invincibility statue!” he cheered. “Didn’t see _that_ one coming!”

Scott tossed the idol to Chris and sat back down. He glowered at everyone. “Nice to know you guys care so much about me.”

“Shut up,” Jo snapped. “You know none of us like you.”

Brick turned to Chris. “Do I get to pick again?”

“Yep! And this selection’s final, so choose wisely!”

Brick looked over his castmates. Jo subtly jerked her head in Mike’s direction, hoping to sway his decision. To her chagrin, he ignored her. Since when did Brick ignore her?

“Well,” Brick said finally, “I know I’d like to avenge Cameron’s elimination almost as much as Zoey and Mike do. Since Scott is safe, I’ll boot the other player who contributed to Cam’s discharge: Lightning.”

“ _What_?!” Jo and Lightning yelled simultaneously. 

“No fair!” Lightning protested. “Lightning _demands_ a recount!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have defaced my _face_ ,” Chris snapped. “Anyone who wants to watch Lightning get flushed, come this way!”

Brick and Jo were the only ones that went. 

“I can’t _believe_ you voted out my alliance member!” she said, though her indignant tone was mostly for show. Truthfully, once the initial shock wore off, Jo felt little remorse over Lightning’s elimination.

“Yeah! You ruined Team Dude’s finale plan!” Lightning added as he got into the catapult. “Us two guys were gonna destroy you!”

Okay, that was it. After eight days, it was time to set the record straight. “You know what, Lightning? I’ve changed my mind. I don’t care Brick voted you off, because at least now I won’t be stuck in the finale with an _idiot_.”

“Lightning is _not_ an idiot!” he insisted.

“Yes you are!” Jo shot back. “You couldn’t even tell I was a girl!”

Lightning’s eyes bugged out of his head. “You’re a wha _—aaaaaah_!”

Chris, still holding the catapult lever, chuckled. “Good riddance!”

Jo rolled her eyes as he signed off to the camera. When Chris finished, he ushered the duo off to bed.

Well, that was that, Jo mused as they walked back to camp in silence. With Tackling Dummy out of the game, she only needed to beat a wussy indie chick, a redneck, whatever _Mike_ was, and a military wannabe. Piece of cake.

And yet… well, every leader needed a second in command, right?

They were almost at the cabin when Jo broke the silence. “You know, I’m gonna need another alliance mate now.”

“You don’t say,” Brick answered evenly.

“No thanks to _you_ ,” she added pointedly, shooting him a look, “but I’ll forgive that because Lightning was getting on my nerves.” She poked him in the chest. “So, Soggy McGhee, what do you say to you and me in the finale?”

“I say that’s a brilliant tactical maneuver.” A stern frown replaced Brick's initial smile. “But I’ll only accept on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“No more nicknames,” he demanded. “Like Dampypants or Sergeant Smelly or Sir Leaks-a-lot.”

Jo sighed loudly. It was a small price to pay for a million dollars. “Fine. We’ll play it your way, Captain Wiz.”

Brick glared at her. She chuckled. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

They climbed the cabin stairs. “Glad we’re in agreement, then,” Brick said, his hand on the door to the boys’ room.

“Yeah yeah. I’m still in charge, though.” She flashed him a trademark smirk.

Brick grinned. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, general.” 

Jo couldn’t help it; she smiled at the title. “G’night, Brick.”

“Good night, Jo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the immunity idol finally gets played. :) Scott escaped elimination this time, but who knows when his luck will run out? (I do. I know.)  
> This chapter title kinda sucks, but I wanted to post this quickly before I go on a beach trip. If anyone has any other suggestions let me know lmao  
> Elimination order: Staci, Dakota, B, Anne Maria, Dawn, Sam, Cameron, Lightning


	11. The High and the Flighty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo meets one of her favorite ex-contestants and harasses Mike. A battle of epic proportions ensues.

For the first time in several days, Jo didn’t wake to the sound of an obnoxious alarm. That alone was enough to put her in a good mood. In addition to that, Jo didn’t have to listen to her roommate’s insufferable gushing while she got ready. Zoey slept like the dead, which made sense. When Jo had gone to bed last night, Zoey hadn’t even been in the cabin.

 _She was probably out on a moonlight beach stroll with Mike_. Jo pulled on her sneakers and made a face. _If those two saps make it to the finale together, I’m suing this stupid show._

Initially, Jo planned to run alone, but then she had the brilliant idea to invite Brick along, which was a stroke of genius for several reasons: A) she could keep an eye on him and make sure he wouldn’t form another alliance with Mike or Zoey, B) the satisfaction of beating him in a race would pretty much make her day, and C) out of everyone on the island, he irked her the least.

Jo marched over to the guys’ dorm and knocked on the door. When she received no response, she knocked again.

“Boys are so dumb,” she muttered after another few seconds of no response. She geared up to knock with extra force.

Scott opened the door. Her fist connected with his cheek.

“Awck!” He dropped to the floor.

“Oops.” Jo examined her handiwork. “Eh, not even a five out of ten on the pain scale. You’ll be fine.”

Scott rubbed the red welt forming on his face and wrinkled his nose, obviously disagreeing with her assessment. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“What _ever_. I’m not here to see you. Where’s Brick?”

The cadet materialized behind Scott. “Jo?”

“Mornin’, soldier! We’re going on a run!”

“We?”

“Yes, _we_. Your legs aren’t gonna exercise themselves!”

Brick saluted. “Yes, ma’am!”

They were out the door a few minutes later. As usual, Jo led by a few feet, just enough to assert her dominance while at the same time converse with her companion. They spent the run comparing various family trips they’d been on. When they reached the mess hall, Jo pulled ahead at the last second for a defined victory.

“Phew, that was pretty good. Nice running—” Remembering their deal from the night before, Jo cut herself off before she used a killer zinger. “Yeah, nice running.”

“I gotta ask,” Brick said, panting slightly, “What’s got you in such a chipper mood?”

He had a point; a smile sat on her face and for the life of her, she couldn’t shake it off. “I just have a good feeling about today’s challenge. The air tastes like victory.”

“I hope you’re right. It’s good to see you smiling at something other than Scott’s misfortunes.”

She laughed. “Oh, believe me, I’d be rolling on the _floor_ at Scott’s misfortunes.”

The man himself arrived at the mess hall and tripped on the front step, only proving her point. Jo chuckled.

Scott dusted himself off. “Laugh all you want, Jo, but you won’t be laughing when I take home the cash.”

“Your empty threats don’t phase me,” she replied smugly. “Sure, your strategy of sabotaging the Rats may have worked for a little while, but your days here are numbered.”

“I mean technically, _all_ our days are numbered,” Brick interjected, “since the competition ends in four days anyway.”

“Shut your mouth, cadet. I’m _trying_ to make an intimidating speech here.”

Green, possibly moldy pancakes composed the morning’s breakfast. As was routine at this point, Jo and Brick sat across from Zoey and Mike, and Scott ate by himself like the pathetic loser he was. Mike fielded some questions about his diagnosis.

“It’s officially Dissociative Identity Disorder,” he said, “but Chris asked that I refer to it as Multiple Personality Disorder on camera, ‘cause viewers will understand that better.”

Brick frowned. “That seems insensitive.”

“It’s Chris,” Jo pointed out. “That guy has the sensitivity of a rock.” Heck, even _she_ had some feelings from time to time. 

After breakfast, the quartet lost track of Scott and headed back to the cabins to await Chris’ challenge announcement.

“Any guesses about what it’s gonna be?” Mike asked once they were at the campsite.

“A knife fight,” Jo suggested. 

“Hopefully another obstacle course,” Brick said.

“I wouldn’t mind a trivia challenge,” Zoey admitted. “I know a _lot_ of Total Drama trivia, heh.”

As they talked, a shadow fell across the campgrounds. At first, Jo dismissed it as a stray cloud, but seconds later she offhandedly glanced at the sky and realized she was dead wrong.

“Oh wow.” That’s all she had to say.

Everyone else looked up. A large airship loomed overhead. The only uncool thing about it was the giant Chris portrait emblazoned on the side, but aside from that, it was one of the sickest things Jo had ever seen.

_Note to self: use your million dollars to buy an airship._

While everyone, Jo included, _ooh_ -ed over the airship, Scott came running into the clearing. 

“Look at you wusses,” he drawled. “It’s just a stupid _blimp_ —”

A steel anchor abruptly crushed Scott’s foot.

“Aah!” he screeched. Behind him, the blimp-airship-whatever descended until it was nearly level with the ground.

“Actually, it’s a zeppelin,” Brick began, pacing like a general lecturing his troops. “They were used in World War I to—”

The ship’s gangplank came down suddenly, nearly crushing the cadet. “Owww,” he groaned.

“You’re _both_ wrong.” Chris appeared at the top of the gangplank. Jo had half-expected him to be wearing some cheesy captain’s uniform, but the host only wore his regular attire. “It’s the McLean Mobile Air Command Center, where _I_ will recline in luxury while you compete in today’s challenge: an aerial obstacle course!”

“Hey, Brick, you got your wish,” Jo snarked as her alliance-mate crawled out from where he had been flattened by the zeppelin.

“Great,” he groaned.

Chris was unimpressed. “And here to demonstrate—put your hands together for Total Drama classic competitor _Heather_.”

Jo just about died on the spot. Despite Heather’s disgustingly girly outfit, her ruthlessness and cunning had earned her the begrudging title of Jo’s favorite TDI competitor. If Jo ever got to compete against Heather, it would be the showdown of the century.

As the queen bee walked off the ramp, crushing Brick’s hand in the process, Jo glanced at Scott. He was the only other player left who could even rival Heather in the cutthroat department.

“Wow,” Zoey said, breaking Jo’s train-of-thought, “you’re _the_ Heather?”

“Sorry.” Heather rolled her eyes. “I have this policy of not speaking to _losers_.”

Zoey rambled. “Oh, I’m not a loser. You know, unless everyone else thinks I am?”

“We don’t,” Mike promised, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

 _Oh, we definitely do_. Jo mimicked Heather with an eye-roll of her own. Though honestly, dating Mike made Zoey a loser-by-association. By herself, she was halfway-decent.

Ten seconds later, Jo was wincing as Heather crashed into the dirt following her freak jetpack ride.

“I think Heather needs medical attention.” Brick had rejoined the group and now poked at Heather’s unmoving, parachute-blanketed figure.

“She’ll be fine.” Chris brushed off his concern. “She didn’t even get attacked by the fire-breathing mutant goats I’m saving for you five.”

Jo grimaced briefly, then steeled herself. She had a good feeling about today, and some crazy fire-breathing mutant goats wouldn’t take that away from her.

“No matter,” she said, mustering all the confidence she could. “After I’m done with them, we’ll be eating mutant goat for dinner.” 

“I love it when campers get all overconfident.” Chris grinned. “Makes their eliminations _so_ much more satisfying.”

Chris ignored Jo’s glare and continued talking. “Now, to perform your aerial feats, you’ll first have to construct your very own flying machines.”

Jo elbowed Brick. “Did they teach you how to build planes in cadet training?”

Brick frowned. “What? No. That’s a completely different field.”

“We’ll have to wing it then,” she said. If only Cameron hadn't been eliminated; he would’ve been so _easy_ to take advantage of. “Either way, I bet we’re gonna win this thing.”

“That’s the spirit, soldier.”

Chris and Chef led the way to their next stop: the dump. After providing exposition for the cameras, Chris held up a trash bag containing their ‘mode of flight’ cards. “Pick ‘em like your nose, losers!”

Ignoring his gross allegory, Jo stepped up for first pick. She rummaged through the gunk and pulled out a card.

“A helicopter?” She examined the red silhouette on the card. “Could be worse, I guess.”

Brick went next. “The plane, a tried-and-true method of transportation.” He grinned and stood next to Jo while the others took their turns.

“A hot air balloon? Cool!” she exclaimed. “That shouldn’t be _too_ hard to build… right?”

Jo grinned. Boy, was she glad she hadn’t picked the hot air balloon card.

Mike stuck his scrawny arm into the bag and pulled out his mode of transport. “A rocket?” He grinned. “This works to my advantage, actually.”

But instead of revealing what advantage he was talking about, he went and stood next to Zoey.

“Huh? A bird?” The confusion on Scott’s face dissolved into annoyance. “How am I s’pposed to build a _bird_? I want a new card!”

He shoved his hand into Chris’ bag; moments later, Scott shrieked and whipped his hand out. A rat trap clamped down on two of his now-throbbing fingers. Very fitting, Jo figured.

Chris advertised the winner’s advantage, a smokescreen, by blowing smoke into their faces. After Jo’s coughing subsided, he sent them off on their merry ways.

Jo and Brick did recon beside a pile of shattered window panes.

“What the heck do I need for a helicopter?” she asked, waving her card around.

Brick thought for a moment. “Probably a fan of some sort, plus a cockpit. I’ll also be needing one of those, along with a propellor and wings.” 

“Right. So if either of us sees something the other needs, we grab it.”

“Solid plan,” Brick affirmed.

They fist-bumped and went their separate ways. As Jo was scavenging for a fan, Mike approached her.

“Hey, Jo? Can you say something mean? I need to trigger Chester.”

“What?” Jo stared at him in disbelief. He had to be joking. “No way am I gonna _help_ you.”

Mike frowned. “Come on, Jo! Hurtful jabs are your specialty!”

“I said no! Put a sock in it, Pointy.”

“Just one little insult? Please?”

Jo picked up a lead pipe and hurled it at his face. “Leave me alone!”

As he dodged the projectile, Mike dry-heaved, and a grumpy expression appeared on his face.

“You dang whippersnappers and your lead pipes!” Chester grumbled. 

“Hey!” Jo was gonna punt this geezer to the moon. “You tricked me!”

“I don’t need to take this disrespect,” Chester huffed, turning away. “I worked for NASA in the 60s, for Pete’s sake!”

So that was Mike’s grand plan, Jo realized. Use his 70-year-old alter’s astrophysics knowledge to build a rocket. It was ingenious—just another reason Jo wanted him gone.

She resumed her search for something useful. After picking apart a pile of discarded electronics, she stumbled upon something amazing: a thin cylindrical object that would be perfect for Brick’s airplane.

Jo picked it up and went in search of him. “Brick? Brick!”

“I’m over here!” A hand popped up from behind a pile of rubbish. Jo clambered over.

“Check out this _rocket launcher_ I found!” she held it above her head triumphantly. “You can use it on your plane.”

“Wow!” Brick took it from her. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep it for yourself?”

“As much as I’d love to, I’ve never heard of a helicopter using rocket launchers,” Jo said. “Have _you_ found anything useful?”

He set aside the rocket launcher. “Only some duct tape and rope.” Brick offered her a coil of rope, and Jo took it.

“Keep searching,” she ordered. “I’m gonna see what the others are up to.”

Jo jogged past Scott; two angry, half-naked gulls were terrorizing him, poking at his thick skull. As much as she’d love to stay and watch the scene play out, Jo had a feeling she’d find better luck elsewhere.

Several yards away, Jo found Zoey working on the beginnings of her hot air balloon. She peered around a heaping pile of trash and watched. Zoey tied ropes to the handles of a well-worn wheelchair.

From the opposite direction, Mike approached, wearing a fedora and carrying a mass of fabric. “Hey sheila, I scavenged up some Manchesters and a heat source for your balloon.”

“Thanks, Manitoba!” Zoey beamed. “You’re so helpful.”

So Chester had been traded in for Manitoba Smith. Jo narrowed her eyes. Good to know.

“Alrighty, lassie. I’m going to fetch a seat for Mike’s rocket. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Ah, an opening. She hustled to catch up to Manitoba. “Hey, Kangaroo Kyle!”

He swung around and raised an eyebrow. Despite sharing the same face, Manitoba managed to look older than Mike. Or maybe it was just the hat.

“What can I do ya for?” he asked.

“Wanna help me find the parts to my helicopter?” Jo asked.

Manitoba scoffed. “Sorry, dog, I’m only frontin’ to help Mike an’ the missus.”

“Of course, of course, I understand.” Jo smirked. “I s’ppose you’re just not up to the challenge.”

“Pardon me?”

Jo made a show of stretching her arms. “I’m sure _I’d_ be better at finding a helicopter than you would,” she said. “Even if I _am_ a girl. You’ll just have to settle for second best treasure hunter. To a _girl_.”

Manitoba’s eyes narrowed. “Alright, ya bludger, I’ll find your stinkin’ helicopter, if only just to prove you wrong!”

“I look forward to it.” Jo followed Manitoba as he hunted for her supplies. _Oldest trick in the book_.

The Australian’s treasure hunt ended a few minutes later. They stood before a motorcycle lying on top of a large fan.

“Here ya go,” Manitoba said. “There’s a reason why they call me the best tracker this side of Queensland.”

“My hero,” Jo said sarcastically. After Manitoba scurried off, she pulled the motorcycle upright. How convenient that she could now cross 'ride a motorcycle' off her bucket list. As for the fan… maybe she could tie it to the underside of the motorcycle? Yeah, that might work.

“I guess I’m making a hovercopter,” Jo said to herself.

* * *

Jo was double-checking the knots on the ropes when Chris’ amplified voice rang out through the junkyard. “And we have a winner! Scott finishes first and wins a smoke machine!”

“Aww!” Jo whined. She scuffed her shoe in the dirt.

She dragged her hovercopter to the junkyard entrance. Chris had reboarded his mobile air command center, which left Scott standing alone and irritated. He wore a set of large feathered wings, and the smoke machine sat on the ground beside him.

“Nice wings,” Jo commented, edging her hovercopter until it was right beside him.

Scott scoffed. “This bites. I get the reward, and I can’t even use it because I’ll be too busy flapping.” To emphasize his point, he flapped his wings lightly. Several feathers unstuck and fluttered to the ground.

“You could always give it to _me_.”

“Uh, remember this morning when you _punched me in the face_?” Scott wrinkled his nose. “Fat chance.”

But Jo wanted that reward, and she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“You know Zoey and Mike are gunning for your elimination, right?” Jo glanced around to make sure the lovebirds weren’t in the vicinity. “Personally, I’d rather keep you around, but I also have no qualms voting with them. So I’ll cut you a deal. You let me use your smokescreen, and I won’t vote you off tonight.”

“Seriously?” Scott looked unimpressed.

“Hey, it’s not like _you_ can use it,” Jo shot back. “I’ll vote for Mike instead, and if you do the same, we can vote him off.” The only complication was securing Brick’s vote, but she’d deal with that later.

Scott scuffed the ground. “Fine. I’ll play nice with you, for now.”

“Pleasure doin’ business with you.” Jo scooped up the smokescreen and set it on the back of her hovercopter.

Brick was the next contestant to join them in the clearing. 

“Not bad,” Jo commented, assessing his plane. Brick had attached a propellor and wings to a large swan boat. The rocket launcher sat mounted on the right side. The plane looked really girly, in Jo’s opinion.

Apparently, Scott had reached the same conclusion. “Looks like something out of a little girl’s storybook.”

Brick paid no mind to Scott’s snark. “Beggars can’t be choosers, and the swan boat was the only cockpit I could recover. Besides, it doesn’t matter how the machine _looks_. It’s what’s on the inside that counts!”

“Now _that_ is straight out of a storybook,” Jo quipped.

Mike and Zoey arrived several minutes later. Heaving and panting, Mike pushed his rocket to the far side of the lineup, besides Scott. Zoey towed her hot air balloon and staked it into the ground beside Brick’s plane. Notably, she had painted hearts and flowers on the linen balloon. 

“Excellent illustrations, Zoey!”

“Thanks, Brick!” Zoey smiled. “Since Scott already won the reward, I figured I could take some extra time to make it look pretty.”

“What happened to ‘it doesn’t matter how the machine looks?’” Jo asked her alliance-member.

“Zoey’s art is _intentional_ ,” Brick told her. “It deserves a compliment!”

Jo saw an opportunity to be difficult and she took it. “What, you’re not gonna compliment mine?”

“You didn’t paint anything!”

“Yeah, but I _intentionally_ placed this duct tape on the headlight!” She pointed at the offending piece of tape.

“If you say so.” Brick sighed dramatically. “Excellent duct tape placement, Jo.”

She grinned. “Thank you.”

The McLean Mobile Air Command Center broadcast Chris’ pompous voice. “ _Players, prepare to be_ challenged _in the obstacle course of doooom_!”

“Bring it on!” Jo yelled. For added effect, she revved her motorcycle’s engine. Adrenaline fizzed through her veins.

“Aim high, fly-fight-win.” Brick saluted them. 

“Good luck, guys!” Zoey climbed into her wheelchair. “As long as Scott _doesn’t_ win, I’ll be happy.”

To her right, she could hear Scott and Mike heckling each other. However, right as Jo turned to listen in on their chitchat, two terrified shrieks caught her attention.

Jo looked up to see Chris and Chef plummeting through the sky. Heather stood in the zeppelin’s doorway. She was yelling, but from the ground, Jo couldn’t decipher the words.

“What the _heck_ just happened?” Scott yelled.

“Heather just mutinied!” Brick realized.

Chris and Chef slammed into the ground several yards away.

“Ugh,” Chris groaned. “I think I sprained my stubble.”

 _Good_ , Jo thought immediately. Meanwhile, Mike approached the host.

“Uh, Chris?” He looked up at the sky. “Heather is stealing your mobile air command center.”

“Whatever.” Chris shrugged. “I got it at the airforce garage sale.”

“And my million dollars!” Jo cut in. All her respect for Heather had evaporated. _No one_ touched her million dollars and got away with it.

“Whatever.” Chris remained unbothered. “Not _my_ million dollars.”

Jo was gonna tear out all his hair strand by strand. Before she could do so, Zoey tried a different approach. “ _And_ your Gemmy awards.”

 _That_ sparked fear in Chris’ eyes. “My _Gemmies_?”

He pushed Chef off himself and leapt up. “Cancel the obstacle course of doom! Your new challenge is to stop that zeppelin!”

Heather was still shrieking from the air command center, but without a megaphone, her villainous monologue was unintelligible. Jo almost laugehd at her.

Then Heather started throwing statues at them. 

Chris ran screaming to save his Gemmies. The statues hit him in the head, knocking him to the ground.

“Guess karma’s really givin’ it to Chris today, huh?” Zoey commented as the host scooped up his statues.

Jo snickered. “I, for one, love to see it.” 

Statues in hand, he stumbled back to the contestants and started barking orders. “Get your flying machines airborne and shoot down that zeppelin! Aim for the engine.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Brick hollered, saluting. 

Chef reappeared holding a basket. Chris continued, “Here’s your ammo: flying mutant fire-breathing mountain goat eggs.”

“Goats don’t lay _eggs_ ,” Scott snapped. “They give live birth! I once—”

“What part of _‘mutant_ fire-breathing mountain goat’ do you not understand?” Chris cut Scott off before he could say anything disgusting. “Whoever takes out Heather first gets _immunity_. Oh, and look out for the mutant fire-breathing mountain goats. They are _super_ ticked for some reason.”

 _I could only guess why_. Jo grabbed a handful of eggs from Chef’s basket and hustled back to her hovercopter. 

“I’m going in!” she yelled theatrically. She squeezed and pulled down on the clutch lever; the motorcycle’s engine roared, and the hovercopter rose into the air. _Huh. Kinda surprised that it didn’t fall apart immediately_. Chalk that up as the first victory of the day.

She and Brick were the first ones airborne. As Jo flew, she glanced down at the other competitors. The ropes of Zoey’s air balloon had ensnared Fang—when had he shown up? Cutting him free preoccupied Zoey and Mike. Scott had taken to the skies, but his makeshift wings were considerably slower than Jo’s hovercopter or Brick’s plane. 

In short, she estimated they only had a few minutes before the others arrived and their lead disappeared.

“Alright, soldier!” Jo called over to Brick. “Our mission is twofold: look out for those demented mutant goats and take out Heather’s zeppelin.”

“Yes ma’am!” Brick saluted her dutifully. The gesture was an ego-boost that kept Jo grinning until they reached the McLean Mobile Air Command Center.

Once the zeppelin was within throwing distance, Jo slipped an egg out of her hoodie pouch. The easiest course of action, she figured, was to destroy the zeppelin's envelope and crash the machine.

“Here goes nothing!” She hurled it at the tail of the zeppelin. 

The egg bounced harmlessly off the hull and plummeted to the sea below. Not even a dent. Heather was probably laughing her butt off inside the zeppelin gondola.

“Great, the eggs are duds.” Honestly, Jo didn’t know what she had expected—a baby goat to burst out and chew the zeppelin to shreds? “What’s our plan B?”

“We should coordinate our attacks!” Brick suggested. “Aim for the same mark in succession. The repetitive blows might perforate the hull.”

“Works for me!” Why hadn’t she partnered with Brick in the first place? He was infinitely more helpful than Lightning had ever been.

Jo picked up her remaining eggs and raised her arm, poised to throw. A glance at Brick, an in-sync nod, and she hurled the second egg at an arbitrary spot on the zeppelin’s left flank. Brick aimed at the same spot. She threw again, then he did, then she. If they were making any progress, it was undetectable. The hull remained intact.

“All out!” Jo yelled after hurling her final egg.

Brick threw his last egg. “As am I!”

“If Plan A and Plan B didn’t work…” Jo’s gaze landed on the plane’s rocket launcher. “Time for Operation Rocket Launcher!”

Brick aimed the rocket launcher at the zeppelin. Jo leaned in, eager to watch what would no-doubt be an impressive fireworks display. He fired the rocket launcher…

...and stale marshmallows shot out and bounced off the zeppelin, making the eggs look useful by comparison.

“You loaded a _rocket_ launcher with _marshmallows_?” Jo screamed.

“I thought I’d be using it against Zoey or Scott in the aerial obstacle course!” Brick said defensively. “I wasn’t gonna load actual _rockets_ into it.”

“Give me that!” Brick tossed her the rocket launcher, and she chucked it at the zeppelin. At last, a dent! Jo smiled, but it disappeared when she realized that a single dent didn’t do anything to stop Heather.

Well, what were their options now? Jo rubbed her temple.

“Looks like you guys could use some help!”

Oh great. Jo twisted around to see Zoey had risen behind her. She waved from her seat on the hot air balloon. In the distance, Mike was zooming around on his rocket and shrieking wildly.

“What the heck is up with your boyfriend?” Jo asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Rockets are hard to handle.” Zoey grinned sheepishly. “He’ll get the hang of it soon.”

Mike’s erratic driving posed a hazard to her ‘destroy-Heather-win-immunity’ plan. Jo assessed the airspace. On her left, Scott was fast approaching, flapping his wings furiously. On her right, Mike’s rocket was bumbling closer.

“Orders, captain?” Brick asked, looking her way.

“Keep pelting the zeppelin!” That was more to Zoey than to Brick. “I’m taking out Scott.” In one fluid motion, she grabbed the smoke machine, directed it to her right, and pressed the button. Smoke billowed out right as Mike arrived; the thick fumes engulfed him and his rocket.

“Aaah!” Blinded by the smoke, Mike and his rocket nosedived. 

“Mike!” Zoey cried. 

“Oops! Wrong way!” Jo yelled. Pfft, a lie if she had ever told one; she had intentionally knocked out Mike.

Scott flew up beside Jo at the exact moment she caught wind of a putrid smell.

“Ew! Brush your teeth, Stink Breath!” Jo pointed the smoke machine in his direction. Scott spiraled in the other direction, coughing. Yet the stench of bad breath remained.

“Uh, Jo?” Brick’s voice pulled her attention in the other direction. Three mutant fire-breathing mountain goats hovered in the air, breathing heavily. In sync, they opened their mouths and unleashed triplet torrents of fire at the four flying contestants. 

Jo dipped her hovercopter to the left and narrowly avoided becoming toast.

“Don’t attack us!” she huffed at the goats. Jo pointed at the zeppelin. “Attack _Heather_!”

For whatever reason, the goats obeyed. Flapping their leathery wings, they flew around the McLean Mobile Air Command Center and shot bursts of fire in every direction. Amazingly, none of the fire hit the zeppelin.

Before Jo could think up another approach, Heather appeared in the doorway.

“You want a piece of me?” she roared. “You want a _piece_?”

Heather chucked more of Chris’ gold Gemmies at them.

“Hey!” Jo howled as a Gemmie clipped her shoulder. _Ow_! Curse Heather for being a good shot. A second Gemmie knocked the smoke machine off the hovercopter. How convenient.

Brick navigated his swan-plane in between Heather and Jo, acting as a shield from more Gemmies. Perfect; Jo hadn’t even needed to ask.

“All of our attacks have been to the rear of the zeppelin,” Brick pointed out. He ducked as a Gemmie narrowly missed his head. “Which means—”

“—we should attack from the front!” Jo caught on. “Excellent plan.”

“Thanks—aah!” A Gemmy hit the plane’s propeller, and the plane plummeted. “Man down!” Brick shrieked as he fell.

“Brick!” Jo watched him fall for a moment before blocking out the concern immediately. _Cut and run_. Hadn’t she given him the same advice before?

 _He’ll be fine_ , she told herself. _Everyone always ends up fine on this ridiculous show_. 

The goats circled back around, lighting up the air with their fire breath. Talk about a perfect distraction. Jo sped to the front of the McLean Mobile Air Command Center and then turned the hovercopter so she faced the front of the zeppelin. From her new vantage point, Jo assessed the mess she had left behind. The mutant goats had lit Zoey’s balloon on fire. Scott was flapping frantically, flying in zig-zags to avoid the goats’ wrath.

Good luck to them. She had a job to finish.

Jo shifted her gaze back to the zeppelin looming before her. Eggs and marshmallows had done nothing to puncture the zeppelin’s envelope. However, Jo noted as she eyed the gondola’s windows, hours of action-movie viewings had taught her that motorcycles could definitely shatter glass.

“This is either gonna be the coolest thing I’ve ever done”—Jo adjusted her grip on the cycle’s handles—“or the dumbest.” She slammed the gas pedal and hurtled towards the zeppelin.

Jo braced herself as her hovercopter slammed through the windows of the gondola. The glass shattered, and Jo tucked and rolled. She landed on her feet, on the opposite side of the room. Though her arms felt like they had been run through a shredder, Jo felt invigorated.

“Give it up, Crop Top!” she snarled, advancing on her opponent. “You’re not walking out of here with _my_ million.”

Heather sniffled pathetically. “I’m sorry! I just—”

“Save it for someone who cares.” Jo shoved her. Caught off guard, Heather dropped the briefcase.

Jo scooped it up, grinning. “Bingo!”

Heather dropped all pretenses and lunged at Jo. “I was _robbed_! I deserve the money!”

“Hey!” Jo screamed as Heather grappled for the briefcase. Each movement further agitated her on-fire arms.

In the struggle, Jo's hands snagged a sheaf of Heather’s dark hair. “If you _touch_ this million, I’ll rip out of all your stupid hair!”

“No!” Heather’s eyes went wide. “I spent two years regrowing this!”

The momentary hesitation was all Jo needed to kick Heather in the stomach. The force sent Heather sprawling to the other side of the gondola. 

“Ow!” she wailed, doubled over in a ball of pain.

“And stay down,” Jo snapped. Her arms ached from the tussle, but she couldn’t worry about that now. Jo carefully set down the briefcase.

She grabbed the steering wheel. True, Jo had no idea what she was doing, but she needed to land the stupid thing and win the challenge.

With nothing to lose, Jo spun the wheel.

“Woah!” The zeppelin lurched downwards.

“Do you know how to steer this thing?” Heather cried from the floor.

“I’m trying!” Jo yanked the wheel in the opposite direction. The zeppelin’s descent slowed to a more reasonable pace.

Jo smiled. “I think I got the hang of it.”

She felt like king of the world as she maneuvered the McLean—scratch that, the _Jo_ Mobile Air Command Center to the beach. Once it was close enough to the sandy ground, Jo pulled a lever and deployed the anchor. With the push of a button, she lowered the gangplank as well. 

She picked up the briefcase, ready to exit the gondola and be hailed as a hero. Before she did, she looked at Heather, who was still curled up in a ball.

“You put up a good fight.” Jo held out a hand.

Heather took it, and Jo pulled her to her feet.

“Next time, it won’t be so easy,” Heather said, eyes narrowed.

If there ever was a next time, Jo would welcome the challenge. But for now, she turned on her heel and left.

Jo practically strutted down the ramp, Heather a few paces behind. Chef and Chris waited on the beach below. Accompanying him were Brick, Mike, and Zoey, the latter of the three sitting on the back of a mutant goat. Scott was nowhere to be seen.

“And Jo wins today’s challenge!” Chris announced. “Bonus points for keeping the balloon intact.”

“Talk about an easy challenge,” Jo boasted while Chef dragged Heather away.

Chris gingerly plucked the briefcase from her hands. “If you’re lucky, you’ll see this again at the end of the season!”

“Amazing work, captain!” Brick hugged her before she could do anything else.

“Congrats!” Zoey dismounted her goat, ran over, and joined in the hug.

“Ow!” Jo griped, pulling away from both of them. She examined the sleeves of her hoodie; tiny shards of glass had been embedded in the fabric.

“That explains a lot,” she said.

“Are you okay?” Brick frowned.

“I’m fine. Just busted through a window to get into the command center. Happens all the time,” she joked, even though fragments of glass were probably edging into her skin as she spoke.

At that moment, Chef returned from wherever he had taken Heather. He loomed over Jo and glared at her.

“You’re comin’ with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, this episode took me FOREVER to write; it made me realize how much I dislike the canon version of UUAWIMPB. Just typing out the word hovercopter kinda made me cringe. I had to create a lil' sticky-note board so I could plot out the aerial fight scene sequence.  
> In the initial plot sketch for this story, Brick was supposed to win this challenge. However, for reasons that should be obvious, I loved the irony of Jo winning the aerial challenge. So I let him win the previous challenge, while Jo gets her time to shine here. Also, gotta love the Total Shuffled All Stars references.


	12. Impossumble to Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To make sure her voting plan goes off without a hitch, Jo talks with several of her castmates, not to mention a two-headed opossum.

Sitting in the medical tent was not Jo’s idea of a good time. Her hoodie had been confiscated by a tubby intern who sat on the cot opposite her. A pair of tweezers in hand, he carefully extracted glass shards from the fabric and deposited them into the tray sitting beside him.

Jo focused most of her attention on glaring at him, partly because she wanted her hoodie back _now_ , and partly because anything was better than looking at Chef in a nurse’s uniform. 

As Chef leaned in to inspect her left arm, Jo couldn’t help but glance at him, and then she had to suppress the urge to vomit.

 _Can’t he just wear his usual apron_? Jo wondered as Chef tweezed a glass chip out of her arm. _Like, seriously, would it kill him to do that_?

Blood was minimal since the majority of the glass had embedded itself in her hoodie instead of skin. Most of the damage to her arms consisted of minor scrapes and abrasions, plus the blooming bruise created by a wayward Gemmie statue. 

Chef applied rubbing alcohol and bandages where necessary. He was surprisingly gentle; probably, Jo figured, to avoid a lawsuit on her part. When he was certain he had removed all the glass, Chef stood up gruffly.

“I’m outta here.” 

“Am _I_ allowed to leave?” Jo asked.

Chef waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t care.” Then he was gone.

Jo looked at the intern across from her. “Give me my hoodie back.”

“I’m not finished yet,” he protested, tweezers paused in mid-air. “I’m gonna get a lint roller and then wash it. That should be enough to get all the glass out.”

“You have a _lint roller_?”

“Dakota left hers behind when she got catapulted,” the intern said.

Of course. Leave it to the Princess of Pink to bring a lint roller onto the island.

“Well, fine. Whatever.” Jo crossed her arms. “Do what you gotta do.”

The intern scurried out of the medical tent, leaving Jo alone. No way was she gonna go traipsing around the island in only a t-shirt. Confined to the tent until the intern returned, Jo settled on exercising.

Jo was on her third set of crunch reps when—

“Hey! What’s up?”

“Ah!” Caught off guard, Jo jerked back and nearly fell off her cot. Zoey stood at the entrance of the medical tent. She frowned.

“I’m sorry! Is this a bad time? I just—”

“Spare me the apologies. What brings you this way, Pigtails?” Jo adjusted herself so she was sitting upright. She’d resume her crunches after her unsolicited visitor had left.

Zoey made herself at home on the opposite cot. “I was wondering how you were doing. Chef just carted you off to the infirmary; Brick and I were concerned it was something serious.”

Jo raised her arm, displaying the scrapes and bandages that decorated it. “Not really. I could’ve handled way worse than this, though.

“Wait, why didn’t Brick come with you if he was so concerned?” After the way he had insisted on visiting Dakota, Jo would’ve assumed he’d be first in line to visit.

“I kinda asked if I could come to see you alone,” Zoey admitted. Jo’s eyebrows rose. “I feel like we haven’t had actual girl talk in a while.”

Jo nearly gagged. _Girl talk_? What was this, some sleepover gossip fest?

“I’m always with Mike, you’re always with Brick,” Zoey added, an innocent smile on her face.

Jo shot her a dirty look that hopefully overshadowed the warmth creeping up her face. “I don’t like what you’re implying.”

“I’m sorry,” Zoey apologized reflexively. “I didn’t mean anything, honest.”

“Whatever.” Caught between a rock and a hard place, Jo redirected the conversation. “Uh, was there anything, in particular, you wanted to talk about?” 

“How have _you_ been?” Zoey asked. “I mean, you won the challenge today, so that’s pretty rad.”

“Yeah, it _is_ pretty rad,” Jo agreed, mimicking her companion’s word choice. “I’m just glad they got it all on camera. My takedown of Heather was straight out of an action movie.”

“I can’t wait to watch that scene when the episode gets released." Zoey smiled.

“And now we’re gonna be in the final four!” she added, clapping her hands like an excited toddler. “Scott’s finally gonna be out of our hair.”

Jo grunted noncommittally and chose her next words carefully. “I’m just glad I’m one step closer to the finale. Next stop: final three.”

Zoey’s smile faltered momentarily. “I wonder what _that_ challenge is gonna be like.”

“Probably’ll involve murder.” Jo rolled her shoulders. Zoey shuddered at her morbid joke.

And that’s when Jo realized why Zoey’s smile had faltered. _Her vision of the final three doesn’t include me_.

If Jo had been dead set on booting Mike before, she was now dead, _dead_ set on it. 

“Listen, Zoey,” she said. “Whatever happens next, it’s not _personal_. After all, only one person can win.” _And that person’s gonna be me. Or Brick, if I break my arm or something._

Zoey nodded sagely. “Exactly! Just a game. No matter what happens, we’ll still be friends after this.”

Friends? Zoey was seriously misinterpreting their strictly-professional relationship. “I wouldn’t go _that_ far.”

Zoey laughed. “Of _course_ we’re friends. We’re the only two girls left on the island! That has to count for something.” 

_I don’t think that’s how friendships work_. But hey, what did Jo know? She’d never been the friend-ish type. 

“Sure, I guess.”

“No hard feelings?” Zoey offered a smile.

“No hard feelings,” Jo agreed, more for Zoey’s sake than her own. She got the sense that she and Zoey had different ideas of what the future held in the way of hard feelings.

From there, Zoey’s babbles about Mike overtook the conversation. Did Jo know Mike had ridden a motorcycle before? No, Jo had _not_ known that, and frankly she was wondering if Mike had driven it legally. Seemingly blinded by her infatuation, Zoey didn’t stop to question the legality.

“Alright alright, slow your roll,” Jo edged in when Zoey stopped to breathe. “You can go back to making out with your boyfriend. That’s obviously what you want to do since you won’t stop talking about him.”

Zoey reddened. “Hey! I’ll have you know Mike and I haven’t even kissed yet.”

“ _Really_?” Color Jo surprised. 

“Omg, I forgot to mention it to you. After yesterday’s challenge, Chris told Mike and me that our first kiss had to be in _front_ of the cameras because it’ll boost ratings. It was _so_ embarrassing!”

“No kidding.” Jo would rather die than kiss anyone on live television.

“And it’ll be my first kiss ever, too,” Zoey added, picking at a loose fiber on the cot.

“Uh, cool?” Ugh, why hadn’t she just kicked Zoey out immediately? Jo didn’t want to have this conversation.

“Have _you_ kissed anyone before?”

Yep, definitely not having this conversation.

“Alright, Flower Power.” Jo stood up and ushered Zoey to the front of the tent. “Thanks for checkin’ in and junk, but I’m gonna get back to my exercise. _You_ can go ask that question to _Mike_.”

“Are you sure?” Zoey asked as Jo pushed her out. “I’m happy to keep you company.”

“All good!” Jo assured her impatiently. “See ya at dinner!”

Jo got back to her crunches. Zoey hadn’t been gone two minutes when Brick popped in. 

“Greetings, captain! How’re your battle scars?”

Jo’s flinch wasn’t as pronounced as it had been when Zoey walked in. “Right as rain, soldier.” Jo flexed just for the fun of it. “Takes more than a panel of glass to keep _me_ from winning.”

“That was mighty impressive.” He sat down opposite her. “Mike and I viewed the assault from the lake.”

“Well I guess I gotta give credit where credit is due,” Jo conceded. “You were the one who suggested a frontal attack.”

“I’m glad it earned you a victory.”

She tossed him a grin that fell somewhere between a smirk and a genuine smile. “Didn’t I tell you I had a good feeling about today?

“Anyways, now we have to talk about the vote. It’s time to say adieu to Hedgehog Hair. I don’t _care_ if he’s your friend, Brick,” she added, anticipating his protest by the way his winsome dark eyes widened. “You’ll have to vote him out eventually if you plan on coming to the finale with me.”

“Can’t we vote out Scott before Mike?” Brick persisted with irritating earnestness. “He’s been throwing challenges since day one! I’d say he more than deserves to be booted immediately. Personal ties aside, in contrast, Mike’s performance has been nothing but exemplary.”

“ _Exemplary_?” Jo rolled her eyes. “Chester almost killed us the other day, and I’m _still_ not over it. Anyways, voting Mike off would weaken Zoey. She’d probably cry about it and get thrown off her game, which will make her easier to beat in tomorrow’s challenge.”

The more she talked, the more she ruffled Brick's feathers. “We’re bringing _Scott_ to the final three over Zoey or Mike? Jo—”

She reached across the aisle and rested her hand on his shoulder, interrupting him. “Ya know, seeing Heather earlier made me think about some things. When it comes down to the final three, I’d much rather go against a cutthroat competitor like Heather or Scott than a pansy like Mike or Zoey. It’ll make the win much more gratifying.”

Brick stood abruptly, shaking off Jo’s hand. “Zoey and Mike are _not_ as passive as you make them out to be, Jo.”

She glared at him; talk about insubordination. “Are you kidding? They—”

“Which you would _know_ if you talked to them.”

“I do too talk to them!” Jo retorted. It was too late to keep the fire out of her voice. “I was just talking to Zoey before you waltzed in here!”

“And even then, you continue to badmouth her.” He folded his arms.

Jo leapt to her feet so they were at equal height. “It’s just strategy, Brick! This game isn’t about friendship and personal feelings. It’s about winning!”

“Well what’s so wrong with hoping you can do both? May I remind you that ‘cutthroat competitor’ Heather lost season one to Gwen and Owen? Both of whom formed plenty of friendships during the competition?”

“Heather won eventually,” Jo folded her arms across her chest. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that you don’t have to sacrifice camaraderie to earn a spot in the finale! Have you considered the possibility that Zoey might vote _you_ off in retaliation for spearheading this campaign against her boyfriend?”

“She’d be gunning for me anyways,” Jo snapped. “If Scott went home tonight, I _guarantee_ Zoey and Mike would take you to the finale three over me. And that’s why voting for Mike is the best course of action for both of us.”

She could see Brick was about to protest, so she added, “Remember last night when we both agreed _I’m_ the captain of this alliance? Since I’m in charge, I say we vote Mike. And that. Is. Final.” With each word, she poked him in the chest to drive home the point.

Brick pursed his lips. After a moment, he said, “Well maybe I need to reassess where my loyalties lie.”

“Come back here!” Jo demanded as he turned around and left. But he didn’t come back. Jo fell back onto the cot, and as the moments passed she sunk lower and lower, grumbling all the while. 

Fantastic. Just stupendous. It was amazing how fast feelings changed on this stupid show. She’d been in a good mood all day, especially after her heroic triumph over Heather, but one dumb argument with Brick had destroyed that post-victory elation. How dare he? 

“‘Reassess where my loyalties lie,’” she scoffed to herself. What kind of dumb Shakespearian quote was that? _Talk_ about being dramatic.

After stewing for several more minutes, Jo hopped off the cot, dropped to the floor, and began a set of pushups. Maybe the workout routine would distract her from the gnawing in her stomach. 

The last time she had gotten truly argumentative like that was during the nighttime scavenger hunt—and then the Maggots had voted her off. Well, they couldn’t _touch_ her this time. Thanks, Chris, for the immunity. She was safe tonight, and yet she still felt crummy.

 _Sheesh. Calm down_ , she told herself as she surpassed thirty pushups. _No use getting riled up. Even if Brick votes Scott, you can still win the million._ Right? She was still the toughest player on the island; she could win any tiebreakers the next few campfire ceremonies threw her way. Heck, who’s to say she couldn’t win the next few challenges back-to-back? It didn’t matter if she faced Brick, Scott, Mike, or Zoey in the finale. That million dollars was hers.

“Hey there, Jo.” Scott pushed back the entrance of the medical tent and ducked inside.

“Oh great. A _third_ intruder.” Jo didn’t get off the ground. “My arms are _fine_ , thanks for asking.” 

“What?” Confusion crept into Scott’s voice. “I don’t care about your injuries. I’m just here to confirm tonight’s vote.”

Forty pushups. “Finally, someone with their priorities in order. We’re voting for Mike, got it?”

“Yep.”

Jo didn’t glance up. “Good.” 

Since she had nothing else to say on the matter, Jo expected him to leave right there. But Scott kept talking. “Is Brick voting with us?”

Fifty pushups. “I’m working on it.” She told the truth, if only to keep him on his toes. “Don’t sweat it, though. I know he’ll come around.”

“Maybe _I_ should pound some sense into him, then,” Scott mused. “I have a shark tooth and I’m not afraid to use it, heheh.”

“Don’t talk to Brick.” Jo looked up sharply. “I’ve got this covered, you understand?”

“Sure.” Scott didn’t sound very sure. “As long Multiple Mike goes bye-bye, I don’t care which one of us secures the third vote.”

Sixty pushups. “Glad we understand each other.”

Scott swiveled to leave, but a sudden bout of curiosity forced Jo to stop him. “Hey!”

He glanced back. “What?”

“What the heck do you _do_ all day?” Jo asked. “You have no one to talk to, and there’s not much entertainment on this crummy island.”

Scott pulled out his shark tooth and flipped it. “If you must know, I’ve been examining the terrain, building traps for a certain freakish shark monster. The work keeps my mind sharp.” He tapped his noggin.

Huh. Jo wasn’t sure what answer she had expected. “Yeah, okay weirdo.” She waved him away. “Get lost.”

“Sure thing.” The tent flaps fluttered as Scott disappeared into the wilderness.

Seventy pushups. Jo kept going.

* * *

An hour later, the intern returned with her hoodie and assurances that all the glass had been extracted. Jo snatched it up and wriggled into it immediately. Wearing the still-damp hoodie restored some of the confidence that had been shaken by her earlier argument with Brick.

Now free to do as she liked, Jo left the medical tent and elected to go on a run. Yes, she had spent an hour doing pushups, lunges, jumping jacks, and various other exercises, but she remained restless. The endorphin rush of a 5k? Now _that_ had healing properties.

She was right; the jog calmed her down, though concerns of what to do next remained. Not chancing a run-in with Brick, Jo took a new route and ended her trek at the top of the infamous cliff.

Jo dangled her legs over the cliffside and watched the waves crash a thousand feet below. When she twisted around, searching for a pebble or an acorn to toss into the lake, a two-headed opossum crawled to her side. After a week and a half on the island, its freakish appearance failed to faze her.

“Hey there, creepy mutant marsupial,” she said slightly sarcastically. “What are you up to?”

The opossum picked up an acorn. The left head gnawed on it; the right head tittered angrily.

“Shut up,” Jo muttered, watching with reserved interest as the opossum's agitation increased.

Righty nipped at Lefty, who dropped the pebble and bit back. Hurt by the other’s transgression, both heads started wailing. Jo hadn’t even known opossums could wail. The whole creature rolled around in the grass as Righty and Lefty bit each other.

 _What the heck am I watching_? Jo wondered as the opossum heads writhed. 

The acorn found its way into Lefty’s mouth, infuriating Righty once more.

“Stop fighting!” Jo hollered. The opossum's heads snapped to attention, their rivalry over the acorn momentarily forgotten.

“I’m trying to _think_ right now,” Jo informed the opossum. “And I can’t do that if you’re arguing over an _acorn_. You do realize how stupid you’re acting, right?”

Lefty and Righty blinked.

“You share a stomach. At least, I think you do,” she added as an afterthought. She wasn’t an expert on mutant anatomy. “But anyways. No matter who eats the acorn, you both benefit. So can you please be quiet before I punt you off this cliff?”

The distinct lack of comprehension on their faces reminded Jo of where she was.

“Aaand I’m alone on a mountain, talking to a mutant opossum.” Jo’s chin fell into her hands and she glanced back at the lake. “If only Dawn could see me now. Heh.”

The opossum heads chittered.

“Maybe Brick and I are like a two-headed opossum.” It was the dumbest sentence she had ever spoken. “But who’s the acorn: Mike or Scott?”

Eventually, Jo decided that it didn’t matter, because her conclusion remained the same: they both had different ideas on what was best for the alliance. And if she wanted to keep the alliance—or, loathe as she was to admit it, their friendly camaraderie—intact, she’d need to apologize.

Total Drama got stranger and stranger every day.

For her return trip, Jo opted to run a full sprint all the way back to camp. She made a pit-stop at the confessional and treated the camera to her unfiltered thoughts on Heather, zeppelins, and the other four competitors. Her opinions, of course, varied wildly from “scum of the Earth” to “actually pretty cool.”

A few moments after exiting the rickety confessional, she ran into Mike, who wore swim trunks and a tank top to ward off Vito.

“What are _you_ up to, Pointy?” Jo raised an eyebrow.

“Brick, Zoey, and I are going for a swim in the bay,” Mike said. He didn’t offer an invitation, but she wouldn’t have accepted anyway.

“Ah.” There went her apology plan. Oh well; she’d corner Brick later. “Have fun or whatever.”

“Thanks.”

* * *

For dinner, Chef served steamed carrots and broccoli, except an unidentifiable fur coated the vegetables. It was decidedly one of Chef’s most disgusting meals yet.

While Zoey, Brick, and Mike ate inside, Jo sat on the porch with Scott. She didn’t want to talk to interact with any of them before she apologized to Brick. Apologies—still unfamiliar territory, but she’d conquer it victoriously, the way she conquered any challenge.

“So is Brick voting with us?” Using his shark tooth, Scott scraped the fur off his carrots.

Jo bit the head of a broccoli spear. “I’m gonna talk to him about it after dinner.”

Really cuttin’ it close, ain’t we?” Scott raised an eyebrow.

“Shut up and eat your veggies, Farmer Brown.”

Scott complied, and Jo ate the remainder of dinner in silence occasionally broken by laughter from inside.

When her carrots and broccoli were all gone, Jo loitered on the porch steps until Mike, Zoey, and Brick finished their dinners. As the trio walked out, Jo grabbed the burliest member by his collar and hauled him aside.

“Ah!” Brick yelped involuntarily.

Zoey and Mike turned around.

“Brick?” Zoey said uncertainly.

“This is between us,” Jo told her with more snap than intended.

“Um, okay.” The confusion remained on Zoey's face, but she didn’t press the matter. “See you guys at the campfire ceremony.” She and Mike strolled off, hand in hand.

“Did you need something, Jo?” Brick maintained a mostly neutral expression, but his eyes betrayed his curiosity.

_Okay, here it goes._

“We’re a two-headed opossum,” she blurted out.

Brick’s eyebrow rose. “I’m not following.”

That was the stupidest thing that had ever left her mouth. Maybe she should have rehearsed something. Whatever. Too late now.

Jo tried again. “Uh, even though we’re in the alliance together, we have different opinions on what would be the most beneficial.”

“How does that relate to opossums?”

“Because,” Jo snapped, “the two heads might want to eat the same acorn, even though it benefits them both in the end!”

“Who’s the acorn?”

“It sounded better in my head!” She threw her hands in the air. Curse stupid two-headed mutant opossums. “The point is: I have my reasons for voting Mike off, and you have your reasons for voting Scott off. But ultimately, no matter which sucker goes home tonight, we’ll both still be in the game.”

Brick nodded as she talked. “What are you saying?”

She sighed as if the words were costing her effort. “If you _really_ don’t want to vote Mike, then get rid of Scott. I won’t kick you out of the alliance, I swear.

“Oh yeah, and I’m sorry for being a prick about it earlier,” she added. In explaining the two-headed opossum analogy, she had almost forgotten the apology part.

Brick’s hand fell on her shoulder. “Water under the bridge. I appreciate you’re allowing me to make my own decision.”

“Yeah, well.” She resisted the urge to shrug his hand off. “A captain’s gotta defer to her platoon’s wishes _sometimes_ , right?”

“Exactly!” Brick looked delighted she had remembered that lesson. “That’s exemplary leadership.”

“I’m an exemplary leader.” She grinned. And an exemplary apologizer too, it seemed.

A half-hour later, Jo found herself casting her third vote of the season. She crossed off the photo of Mike and held it up to the camera.

“I won’t miss you at all,” she said, “but I’m sure Zoey’s angst will more than makes up for it.”

Afterward, she sat down in the front row between Scott and Mike. Zoey and Brick filled out the back row, and the final five waited for Chris to announce their fates. Eventually, the host walked out holding the platter of gooey, non-hazardous marshmallows. A hazmat-clad Chef Hatchet brought out the Marshmallow of Loserdom.

“For taking out Heather and saving my McLean Mobile Air Command Center, Jo gets immunity.” Chris tossed her the first marshmallow of the night. She grinned; victory was sweet.

“Brick. Zoey. You two are _also_ safe.”

Chris chucked their marshmallows to them. Now all the attention was on the bottom two.

“And with three votes against him, tonight’s loser is…”

Scott, believing Jo and Brick had voted with him, looked smug.

Mike, believing Jo and Brick had voted with _him_ , also looked confident.

Jo, sitting in the middle, didn’t feel too bad that Scott was going home.

“...Mike!”

Wait, _what_?

Scott calmly caught his marshmallow; Mike ducked to avoid the Marshmallow of Loserdom.

“Hey!” he cried. “How did I get votes?”

“Scott must have rigged it!” Zoey yelled. 

“Nope!” Chris confirmed, reveling in the drama. “I watched the tapes myself. No foul play on Scott’s part.”

“Jo?” Mike turned on her angrily. “You voted for me? I—”

Chef grabbed Mike’s skinny wrist.

“Say hi to Svetlana for me,” Jo quipped as Chef dragged him away.

“Not fair, Jo!” Mike yelled back.

“Everything’s fair in Total Drama!” she retorted.

“Mike!” Zoey ran after him. Chris followed the three of them.

“I won’t miss him,” Scott commented before taking leave. 

Now it was just Jo and Brick at the campfire site. He moved up a row and sat down in Mike’s old seat. 

“You voted for Mike,” Jo said, almost in awe. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“ _Semper fi_.”

“What?”

“The motto for the U.S. Marine Corps,’” Brick explained. “It’s Latin for ‘always loyal.’”

Before Jo could question why he, a Canadian, was spouting mottos for the _American_ army, Brick kept talking.

“I mulled it over,” he admitted, turning his own marshmallow over in his hands. “I could see the logic in voting out Mike tonight. You brought up good points. At this point in the game, sometimes strategy must take precedence over feelings.” His mouth quirked. “Sometimes.

“But above all else, we’re in an alliance, and my code dictates I must remain loyal to you above all else.”

Brick really said the sappiest stuff sometimes. But hey, having someone pledge their undying loyalty to you was pretty cool, no matter who said it—unless it was Mike, but it wasn’t, so it was still pretty cool.

“With that attitude, we’re gonna sweep the rest of the competition,” she said, punching him warmly in the shoulder. “Go Team Us!”

“I dunno, I think Team Dude has a better ring to it.”

She punched him again, _harder_. “Don’t push it, cadet. Now let’s get back to camp before Zoey comes into my room bawling her eyes out.”

“Can’t you rephrase that?” Brick asked as they started walking.

“Before Zoey comes into my room and is understandably upset that her love interest got eliminated,” Jo corrected herself, deadpan. “Are you satisfied?”

“Extremely.”

Unluckily for Jo, tonight was not one of those nights where she fell straight asleep. The scratchy, low-quality blankets irritated her arms. She was seriously contemplating sleeping in her hoodie when the cabin door opened and a glum Zoey walked in.

Jo, usually one to offer a provocative comment, decided it was in her best interest to not say anything.

Zoey spoke anyways.

“I thought we had a final four agreement.” Her tone was impressively even; Jo couldn’t tell if she was masking anger or sadness. Maybe both.

“I never agreed to that,” Jo replied. “Watch the footage when the episodes come out and you'll notice I specifically avoided agreeing to that.”

“But _Scott_?” Zoey said sharply. “You voted with _Scott_ over me and Mike? Scott got Dawn and Lightning kicked off!” 

“And he’ll pay for that soon enough,” Jo answered. When she pummeled Scott to the ground in the final three, it was gonna be _so_ satisfying. “It wasn’t personal, Red. Just strategy. Remember what we talked about earlier? No hard feelings.”

“Yeah, well I guess I didn’t expect you and Brick to _backstab_ me and _vote out my boyfriend_ ,” Zoey snapped while she undid her pigtails.

Jo made an ‘are-you-serious’ face. “Oh, so no hard feelings if _you_ had voted me out in the final four. But yes hard feelings when you get screwed over by someone playing the game better than you?” 

“Yeah, I guess that’s how it works.” Tears choked up Zoey’s voice. “Call me a hypocrite for caring that Mike got voted off.”

“That’ll be your new nickname,” Jo snipped, turning away. Screw comfort; if she could put up with Zoey's cryfest, she could put up with itchy blankets.

Save for Zoey’s sniffling, they were silent for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy. For the most part, while writing this fic I stuck to the elimination order/plot points I outlined in the initial sketch of this AU. However, this is the first elimination I swapped around. Originally, Mike was supposed to place 4th. I'll elaborate more on that decision once the third-place contestant gets voted out.  
> Fun fact: when writing, I pictured the two-headed opossum as Sierra's baby rats from Suckers Punched.  
> Also, I'm so psyched for chapter thirteen next week, 'cause it comes with a bonus side-story. :)
> 
> Elimination order: Staci, Dakota, B, Anne Maria, Dawn, Sam, Cameron, Lightning, Mike  
> Remaining contestants: Brick, Jo, Scott, Zoey


	13. The Great Canadian Puke-Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoey remains upset about Mike's elimination. Jo runs into trouble during the day's cooking competition. Everyone harasses Chef.  
> (TW: Like the canon episode, this chapter does contain vomiting)

“You have to talk to her.” Jo glanced back at the mess hall doors.

After their morning 8k—as usual, Jo had beaten Brick to the finish line—the duo stood in line for breakfast. The “her” in question was Zoey, whom they’d passed on the way in, mournfully eating her soggy oatmeal on the porch steps.

“While I’m happy to help a friend in distress”—Brick passed her a bowl—“maybe _you_ should take the opportunity to talk to Zoey.”

Jo scoffed over the sound of day-old oatmeal sloshing onto their plates. “Fat chance. I’m delegating this responsibility to you, soldier. Besides, I already tried this morning.”

“You did?”

They sat down at the table. Jo picked at her food. “Affirmative,” she said, borrowing Brick’s jargon. “Told her she’s better off without Mike to distract her anyways. Zoey didn’t take it well.” 

Jo’s exact words had been “Cheer up, Red. At least you’ll be a much fiercer competitor now that your boyfriend isn’t around to distract you.” She had intended it to be somewhat of a compliment, but Zoey had thrown her hairbrush. It was an Anne Maria-esque response that caught Jo totally off guard. The girl constantly fretting over her likeability status was now throwing projectiles at Jo’s head? It was like a totally different Zoey had woken up that morning.

Brick knit his brow. “If you phrased it like that, I can’t exactly blame her.”

“Which is _why_ you have to talk to Zoey. She’d listen to you.” Jo scooped some oatmeal into her mouth. The briny taste of seafood overwhelmed her tongue. Gross. Chef must’ve mixed up the salt and cinnamon.

“I’ll talk to her after breakfast,” Brick promised, “but I can’t guarantee she’ll perk up.”

That was good enough for Jo.

They ate in companionable silence for a while. With Zoey brooding on the porch and Scott AWOL—as usual—they had the mess hall to themselves. A foretaste, Jo figured, of how it’d be on finale day, with them in the final two. They’d have the whole camp, heck, the whole island, to themselves.

This morning, Jo wasn’t particularly speedy about eating her salty oatmeal. Brick, on the other hand, devoured his entire helping voraciously. She wasn’t even halfway finished with her oatmeal before Brick hopped back in line for another serving.

“I can stomach this junk just fine,” she commented when he returned, “but going back for seconds? That’s gross.”

“Oatmeal is delicious!” Brick answered cheerfully. “We ate it all the time during basic training.”

“That was _regular_ oatmeal. This is salty, tastes-like-fish oatmeal.”

“I know some of the recent meals have been nauseating, but I think Chef’s turning a corner with his cooking!” Brick dug into his second bowl of oatmeal.

Jo could only chalk it up to teenage boys and their insatiable appetites.

When Brick was finally, finally done with his meal, Jo poked him. “Okay, now go cheer up Eeyore out there. I don’t want her bothering me during today’s challenge.”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Brick swatted her away and strolled outside. Jo picked up their empty bowls and brought them over to the dirty dish bin in the corner of the room. Despite the fact only four players remained on the island, the bin was nearly full. Chef was probably procrastinating his chores.

When Jo finished putting their stuff away, she slunk to the doorway to eavesdrop. Could ya blame her? She sat against the inside wall, a position which ensured she’d remain hidden from the other two while still hearing everything they said.

“I can imagine you’re not in high spirits this morning,” Brick said to Zoey.

Though Jo couldn’t see, she could picture Zoey melodramatically twirling her pigtails. “Nope. But that’s partially your fault, isn’t it?”

“Indeed it is. I’m sorry it turned out that way.”

“Y’know, I can understand why Jo would vote for Mike. She’s always had a mean streak.”

 _Thank you_. Jo smiled. She’d cultivated that mean streak for years; it kept her on top of the competition, no matter what.

Zoey continued, “But I didn’t ever in a million years expect _you_ to vote Mike off. Not with Scott around.”

“Believe me, I wish Jo’s strategy had allowed for Mike to stay and Scott to go. And though I lobbied in favor of booting Scott, she was adamant that Mike posed a bigger threat.”

 _Woah woah woah, do_ not _try to make me look like the bad guy_. It was all technically true, and Jo owned up to it. But still, the whole point was for Brick to calm Zoey down, not remind her of the reasons to vote off Jo.

“Right. Personal relationships. It’s just strategy. No hard feelings. Nothing personal.” Zoey’s voice embittered with every word. “Like, I get it, okay? It’s not a dating show, it’s a reality competition. But also, I’m still upset.”

Jo was so engrossed in eavesdropping that she didn’t notice Chef until it was too late. He grabbed her arm and dragged her across the room.

“Hey! What are you doing?” she demanded, wriggling to no avail.

Chef snapped, “I’m given’ you something better to do than eavesdropping: washin’ the dishes.”

“Can’t you make an intern do that?”

“I could, but they’re all occupied with Chris at the moment. Besides, I like tormentin’ you contestant twerps just as much.” Chef stood her in front of the sink. “Now get to cleaning!”

“Or _what_?”

“Or I’ll mop the floor with your sorry carcass,” Chef snapped. He threw a sponge and hit her square in the face.

“Ow!” Had she mentioned yet how much she wanted to sue Chef?

A few minutes later, Jo stood up to her elbows in soap suds and greasy water. Brick walked into the kitchen, holding yet another bowl.

“Why are you doing the dishes?” he asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“Chef hates me,” Jo stated plainly. “How’d the talk with Depression Incarnate go?”

Brick raised the bowl up. “She gave me the rest of her oatmeal!”

 _Is this guy for real_? “What’d you talk about?” she pressed.

His face turned an unusual shade of tomato red. “Nothing! Just, uh, feelings and sappy stuff like that. Y’know, stuff you wouldn’t be interested in.”

Obviously, this was just a ploy to get her to drop the subject, which made her curious; what did he have to hide? But at the same time, his statement rang true; Jo’s interest in second-hand emotions lay below zero percent.

“I can finish up the dishes if you want,” Brick offered hastily.

“Um, okay.” Jo wasn’t gonna waste an opportunity to get out of chores. She rinsed the suds off her hands and stepped aside. “You sure about this?”

“Absolutely! I earned a medal for my exemplary dishwashing skills,” he boasted cheerfully, plunging his hands into the foamy sink water.

“I’m sure you did.” Jo rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “I’ll see you at the challenge, okay?”

“Affirmative!” Brick saluted, accidentally splashing her in the process. She flashed him a glare, and he chuckled sheepishly. “My bad.”

Jo sighed and went to find something else to occupy her time before the challenge started.

The ‘something else’ turned out to be shooting hoops with a slightly-deflated basketball. Jo had never been one for team sports and therefore hadn’t picked up a basketball since her freshman year PE class. But she was alone now; might as well try it out.

She sunk her first two shots but missed the third. As she was lining up to shoot a fourth, Scott walked out of the bushes. 

“Jo!” he said with faux delight. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Whadda you want, Weasel Boy?” Jo tucked the ball underneath her arm and faced him squarely.

“Just to offer you a proposal for a sweet alliance with Baron von Scottmeister.” Scott pointed at himself like he was the best thing since sliced bread.

“Okay first of all, never call yourself _Baron von Scottmeister_ again.” Jo nearly choked on the cringy nickname. “And second of all, we were already targeting Zoey, so you don’t have to worry your ugly little head about the vote.”

“ _Ugly_ little head?” Scott’s forehead wrinkled. 

“You know the phrase ‘pretty little head?’ It’s like that, but more honest.” Jo snickered; Scott scowled at her.

“Whatever. See ya at the challenge,” he grumbled before heading back into the woods like a feral goblin man.

Jo played basketball for a few more minutes before she got bored and went to the confessional instead. Yesterday, her good vibes had taken her straight to victory; and while today Jo didn’t feel exactly the same elation, she remained confident the finale was in her grasp.

“I’m practically running this island,” she boasted. “Brick and I have an airtight alliance, Freckle Face is practically _begging_ me to keep him around, and that leaves Pigtail Princess with no solid allies.

“Maybe I’ll spare some of my cash prize to send her and Pointy on some gross romantic getaway,” she added as an afterthought. “It’s the least I can do, considering I apparently _caused_ Zoey’s depression.”

After leaving the confessional, Jo spotted the other three competitors lined up outside the communal washrooms. She hustled over to join them.

“Time for today’s challenge?” she asked.

“Affirmative.” Brick nodded.

Chris appeared out of nowhere. “Okay, kids, hush up while I explain the challenge, got it?”

Jo and her competition nodded in understanding. After checking to make sure the cameras were rolling, Chris started his spiel.

“It’s challenge time!” he announced theatrically. He strolled as he monologued. “And since you’ve all been _abused_ so _flagrantly_ , today’s challenge is a super-safe fun challenge!” 

“Woo hoo!” Brick and Zoey high-fived. Even Scott looked excited, while Jo shrugged. She’d thrived during yesterday’s dangerous challenge, but super-safe couldn’t be _too_ bad, could it?

Chris beamed. “Get ready for bubbles”—Jo frowned—“flowers”—Jo grimaced—“and cotton _ca—wooaaaaah_!”

His foot caught in a noose. Jo’s jaw dropped as the trap flung Chris through the air like a rag doll. He crashed through the roof of the communal outhouse.

“Yikes,” she commented, wincing at the impact.

“Ewww,” Zoey added. 

“My snare—I mean, _Brick’s_ snare threw Chris into the outhouse!” Scott cried.

“You’re not fooling anybody, Weasel Boy,” Jo snapped. No way was he gonna frame Brick for this. “We all know you’re the only trap-building creeper on this island.”

Meanwhile, Chef was shouting orders left and right. “We’ll get you outta there soon!” he hollered at Chris.

“Those ungrateful puppets _just crossed the line_!” Chris snarled. “Remember your nasty challenges, Chef? The ones that got the red light?”

Jo and Brick exchanged a glance, both thinking the same thing: _This can’t be good_.

“Yeah,” Chris continued, “the light just turned _green_.”

A dark grin spread over Chef’s face. He whirled around and punched his fist. “I’ll bring the _pain_.” He cackled maniacally. Light flashed across his face; thunder rumbled overhead.

Jo tensed up and glanced at the sky, as did Brick, Zoey, and Scott. _When did the thunder show up_?

But the crisp blue sky was clear and cloudless, and the sun shone brightly. Nevertheless, the thunderclaps continued.

A glance back at Chef explained it—the interns were using props to create sound effects.

Not funny, didn’t laugh. Jo glared at Chef.

“Okay, cool it,” he ordered moments later. The interns obeyed. “Execute Operation Puke. Ya’ll better bring the supplies to the clearin’ in the next fifteen minutes, or you’ll be out of a job!”

The interns scattered to follow his directions.

“What’s Operation Puke?” Scott asked.

“And might I say that’s a flimsy operation name,” Brick added. “Operations are meant to be two words that—”

“Shut your mouth!” Chef screamed, the force of his shout nearly knocking Brick over. 

“Take it easy,” Zoey cried, ever the peacemaker.

“You four are comin’ with me,” Chef rumbled. He stalked off into the forest, leaving the final four to follow.

“Thanks a lot, Scott,” Zoey grumbled. “I was really looking forward to the super-safe fun challenge.”

“Whatever Chef has in store is bound to be _loads_ more interesting than cotton candy and flowers,” Jo answered.

“Of course you would think that,” Zoey answered dryly. “You hate happiness.”

Jo played along. “Darn right, I do. Happiness is for chumps.”

Brick looked offended. “No it’s not!”

“It totally is,” Scott agreed. “I haven’t been happy since my sister took me to the local hog festival when I was ten years old.” The serious tone of his voice caused Jo to pause.

“...I was joking.”

“I knew that!” Scott blustered.

When they arrived at the clearing, four kitchenettes awaited them. Each counter included a mini stove, sink, and an assortment of rusty pans, skillets, and kitchen utensils.

This was _not_ the sort of red-light, dangerous challenge Jo had been expecting.

Without any discernible pattern, Chef assigned them to each counter; he placed Jo at the farthest left counter, Scott and Brick at the center counters, and Zoey on the farthest right. 

The cameras started rolling, and Chef hurled one insult after another at the contestants. Jo kept her expression neutral; she was well aware Chef could and would follow through on his threats to break the kids’ bones, but the audience didn’t need to know that. “No wimps are gonna make it to my finale,” Chef bellowed. “Do you _understand_?!”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Brick saluted.

“First challenge: the cookoff!” 

_Talk about a lame challenge_.

“A cookoff?” Scott scoffed, echoing Jo’s own thoughts. “What’s next, a lawn bowl—”

Chef hurled a frying pan at Scott’s face.

“Ow!” he keeled over. Jo snickered, and even Zoey chuckled.

“Shut it, or _I’ll_ shut it.” Chef looked the other way and gestured. “Bring in the TD classic competitor.”

The tubby intern wheeled in the blindfolded guest star.

Jo sighed. “Oh great, one of the sappy pushover ones.”

“It’s DJ!” Brick cried delightedly.

Chef ripped the blindfold off DJ’s face. Terror filled the ex-contestant’s face. “No, not _here_! I vowed never to be back as long as there was breath in my lungs!”

“Your contract disagrees, Dough Boy.” Chef shoved the offending papers in DJ’s face.

Oops. Jo hadn’t read her contract thoroughly. For all she knew, she’d signed away her soul to Chris McLean the same way DJ had. Meh, she’d check when she got home.

“You slime buckets”—Chef glared at them—“are gonna cook something tasty, and this bag of mush”—he pointed at DJ—“will be the judge. You got twenty minutes to make a scrumptious lunch with whatever you find on the island.” Chef smiled smugly. “I believe in eating locally.”

Yeah, Jo had surmised that from a week and a half of his disgusting food.

“Ready?” Chef clanged two pans together. “Get cookin’!”

Zoey, Scott, and Brick ran off into the woods.

“What a bunch of numskulls,” Jo scoffed, running in the exact opposite direction. Chef had meant for them to forage, but she had noticed a loophole she was willing to exploit. A few minutes later, Jo had retraced her steps to back where they had started.

“Ah, the mess hall,” she proclaimed loudly for the benefit of any cameras that happened to be filming her. “It’s on the island, so the food inside is fair game.

“Chef is gonna be _sooo_ mad when he sees I’ve outsmarted him,” Jo added smugly, pushing open the mess hall doors and strolling inside like she owned the place.

Halfway across the room, Jo stopped short. 

“Oh, come _on_!” she shouted. An iron lock hung over the kitchen doors. Apparently she was the one who had been outsmarted.

 _Great_. Jo could practically hear Chef’s gleeful cackling ringing in her ears.

“We’ll play it your way,” she grumbled, sprinting out of the mess hall. She wasn’t going to waste twenty minutes trying to pick a lock.

“Alright,” Jo muttered, looking around the forest, “which plants _won’t_ kill DJ?”

Her gaze landed on a berry bush.

“I guess I can make smoothie?” Jo tilted her head. On one hand, smoothies were kinda girly. But on the other hand, berries and nuts were excellent foods for serious athletes, which negated the girly aspect. Also, what else was she gonna make in twenty minutes? A pie? As if.

Jo turned her hoodie around so its hood rested underneath her chin. Then she went to work picking the berries, depositing them all in her hood. It was a pretty ingenious system if she did say so herself.

When she had picked sufficient berries, Jo scoured the area for nut-bearing trees. Luckily, she found one, scaled its trunk, and plucked hazelnuts from the branches, adding it to her growing collection of ingredients.

“Squawk!”

Jo looked over her shoulder. Sitting on another branch, a mutant animal watched her. It had the bushy tail and lean body of a squirrel combined with the beak and beady eyes of a pigeon.

“Shoo, get lost!” she ordered the pigeon-squirrel—squigeon?—hybrid. “I need to win a challenge here.”

The squigeon lunged at her. More specifically, at the hazelnuts in her hoodie.

“Aah!” Jo swatted it away. In doing so, she let go off the tree and fell to the ground. _Ouch_. Berries and nuts scattered.

“Rotten mutant!” she yelled, scrambling to collect the food before the squigeon could eat it. The squigeon squawked and nipped at the nuts Jo picked up.

“There’s food right above your pea-sized head!” Jo pointed at the full hazelnut tree from which she had just fallen. “Go eat that instead, you freak!”

The squigeon made a renewed effort to jump into Jo’s hoodie. Jo leapt to her feet and kicked at it. The animal hissed at her.

 _I hate this island_. Jo turned and dashed back to the clearing. Thankfully, the squigeon was too slow to follow her the entire way.

“Hey there, soldier!” Brick was the only other person who had returned to his cooking station. He was mixing something in a bowl. “You look like you’ve just returned from across enemy lines.”

“Yeah, if the enemy is the stupid mutant animals on this stupid mutant island,” Jo said. Bowl in hand, Brick followed her over to her kitchenette. She dumped remaining berries and nuts onto a skillet. “Why Chris decided we should compete here is beyond me.”

“I believe Chris’ primary motivation for everything is ‘good ratings,’” Brick pointed out.

“I hope he’s having a good time right now.” Jo smiled at the mental image of Chris stuck in the sewer, atoning for all the deranged things he’d done. Then she rummaged around, looking for supplies.

“What are you making?” Brick asked.

“Smoothie,” she answered. “Do these things come with blenders?”

“Try the bottom cupboard,” Brick suggested, nodding at the cupboard in question.

Jo opened it. Inside, she found not only a blender but also extra cooking supplies: milk, eggs, butter, and flour.

“Eating locally my _butt_!” Jo held up the milk carton. “This is definitely imported.”

“I think the eggs, milk, and butter are from the mountain goats.”

“Doesn’t make it any better.” Jo set down the blender and the milk next to her skillet. 

“Wait, what are _you_ making?”

“Stew, just like the rations we eat at boot camp.” Brick held up his bowl for her to inspect. Jo sniffed. It was no more appetizing than the slop Chef cooked up every morning.

“Poor DJ,” she quipped.

Zoey arrived at the clearing, followed moments later by Scott. Zoey held a ton of leafy greens; Scott carried a pail of swamp water.

“I’d better return to my post,” Brick said, giving her a friendly little salute. “Good luck!”

“You too.” She nodded.

Jo shoved all the berries into the blender, which was the least arduous part of the process. Next, she shelled the hazelnuts and added them to the blend. Finally, Jo sniffed the cup of milk, just in case Chef had provided them with spoiled milk. Thankfully, it passed the smell test, and in went the cup of milk.

She plugged in the blender and flipped the switch.

Nothing happened.

Jo flipped the switch several more times, but the blender failed to work.

“Come on!” Perhaps unwisely, she kicked the electrical outlet. That did it—the blender whirred to life, nearly toppling over. Jo wrapped her hands around the lid to steady it.

While her smoothie blended, she observed the competition. Brick seemed to be enjoying himself; he tossed vegetables into his soup like nobody’s business. She half-smiled. Zoey was viciously beating the tentacles crawling out of her salad. And Scott was—where was Scott?

“How’s it goin’, Jo?” Scott tapped her shoulder.

“Ah!” Jo jumped. “Don’t do that again, Sharkbait!” She flipped the blender off and shoved him.

“Hey!” Scott glared at her. “Uncalled for!”

“It was definitely called for,” Jo answered. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Didn’t mean any harm. I was just curious as to how your smoothie’s turning out.”

“Perfectly.” She unscrewed the cap off the blender. She had expected the blend to be a reddish-purple, but instead, Jo had created an unsightly blue-brown concoction. 

“Where’s _your_ dish?” Jo asked him. 

“I made stew, but—oh my gosh, is that _Lightning_?”

“Where?” Jo looked over, half-expecting to see her ex-teammate on the other side of the clearing. 

The only thing she was was Brick licking his spoon and Zoey sprinkling croutons into her salad.

“Whoops. Guess I’m wrong.” Jo turned back to Scott, who was shrugging apologetically. “That tree over there looks exactly like him.”

 _What an idiot_ , Jo thought. Aloud, she told him, “You should lay off the late-night trap-setting. It’s messing with your eyesight.”

“Right you are, Jo,” Scott nodded as if he’d take her advice to heart. “Thanks for the concern.”

“Get out of here before I throw a spatula at you.” She held up one just to make her point. 

Scott hurried off to his station to finish making his stew. Jo poured her smoothie blend into a cup. Boys were disgusting and salad was, well, _salad_ , so she was pretty confident she’d be winning this challenge.

A few minutes later, Chef screamed at them to present their creations.

“Move, move, move!” he hollered as if DJ’s very life depended on their food. The four contestants lined up, and Brick went first.

“I’ve created a filling beef and vegetable stew fit for any soldier on-the-go!” Brick held up his bowl for inspection. The judge smiled briefly before Brick added, “I couldn’t find beef, so I used worms as a substitute.”

“Ah!” DJ shrieked. 

_How would worms taste anything_ like _beef_? Jo wondered while Chef yelled, “Next!”

Zoey approached DJ with a bowl of her own. “I present the living salad!”

A clutter of spiders crawled off the salad and onto DJ’s shirt. He screamed wildly.

“Alright, your turn’s over.” Jo shoved Zoey aside—gently, so Zoey wouldn’t have any more reason to hate her. She held up her cup to DJ. “I went for the healthy option: a berry and hazelnut smoothie, loved by athletes everywhere!”

DJ actually cracked a smile. He leaned forward to sniff the smoothie.

Out of nowhere, the squigeon jumped onto DJ’s shirt, hissing wildly.

“Aaah!” DJ shrieked as the squigeon launched itself onto Jo’s wrist, nipping at the cup in her hand.

“Also loved by rodents everywhere,” Jo added weakly. She stepped out of line and flailed her arm wildly until the force threw the squigeon against the nearest tree.

Luckily, her smoothie remained unharmed.

“Next!” Chef barked.

Last and least, Scott approached a trembling DJ with his dish.

“I’ve made Southern Stew Surprise,” he said, grinning awkwardly. “If you manage to keep it down… _surprise_!”

“Talk about original,” Jo muttered to Brick.

The water in Scott’s stew stirred, and a one-eyed frog floated to the surface.

That was _it_ for DJ.

“Aaaaah!” He ripped off his rope confines and streaked off towards the dock.

“Looks like we just lost our taste tester,” Chef commented, watching him run. “Rule change! You gotta eat all of your own grub.”

Scott and Zoey retched.

“Yes sir!” Brick grinned.

“Eh.” Jo smiled. If Scott’s and Zoey’s reactions were anything to go by, she had a good shot of winning, assuming she hadn’t picked poisonous berries for her smoothie.

Chef threw to commercial break and then lined them all up. Zoey and Scott stood on one side, Jo and Brick on the other.

“I don’t want to stand next to Zoey,” Scott complained, squeezing himself in between Jo and Brick. “I wanna stand next to Brick.”

Jo looked at Scott’s stew, and then at Brick’s. Both dishes were nearly identical, and that just screamed ‘bad idea’ to her.

“No way, Copycat.” She shoved him back into place next to Zoey. “ _I’m_ standing next to Brick.”

“I’m flattered, captain,” Brick joked, elbowing her. 

Jo rubbed her neck, which suddenly felt warm. “Scott was obviously gonna swap your bowls. They look exactly the same.”

“Was not!” Scott protested like a baby.

“Y’all give me a headache.” Chef massaged his temple. “Can we start the next segment now?”

“Why are you asking _us_? You’re the one in charge,” Scott snarked.

Chef shook a fist at him. “Mind your manners, boy.” He coughed and turned to the cameras. 

“Alright contestants. It’s time to eat the disgusting crud you cooked up before the break.” 

Jo glanced down at her smoothie. _Time to win this thing_.

“Whoever finishes their meal first—without spewing—wins the challenge.” He punctuated his monologue with a sharp laugh. “Man, this is gonna be rank.”

“None of this looks even remotely vomit-inducing,” Jo muttered, looking down the line of dishes. Harmless stew, harmless smoothie, harmless salad… mutant stew. “Except maybe Scott’s.”

“Three, two, one.” Chef blew an air horn. “ _Eat it_!”

 _Cheers_. Jo raised the cup and drank.

She nearly choked. The warm smoothie shared both consistency and foulness with Chef’s nasty oatmeal. Jo forced it down anyways, vaguely aware of a residual tingling sensation in her throat.

When she stopped for a quick breath halfway through, the tingling in her throat grew more pronounced. Suddenly the tingling morphed into a full-blown itch. An unbearable, consuming itch, like ants were crawling in her throat and mouth.

“What the—?” Jo dropped her smoothie cup and scratched her neck. But clawing at the outside of her neck did nothing to extinguish the fire inside her throat. 

“Poison ivy!” Zoey squealed. She had abandoned her salad in favor of scraping her throat with the same intensity as Jo.

They had _both_ put poison ivy in their meals? What were the odds?

Through an agonizing haze, Jo’s eyes fell on Scott. A tiny smirk sat on his freckled face as he raised a spoon to his lips. Then he swallowed a spoonful of stew, and immediately his lips curled in disgust.

But no time to dwell on that; Jo scratched with one hand and pounded the countertop with the other.

Scott puked.

Jo wasn’t usually squeamish at the sight of vomit, but her stomach flip-flopped anyways.

Two seconds later, Zoey puked up her salad, groaning miserably.

The bile rising in Jo’s throat made her momentarily forget the itching. She doubled over and vomited everything she’d eaten in the past three hours.

“Jo?” Brick had stopped eating to watch her puke. Her face flushed. 

“Keep eating,” she groaned. He needed to win. She, meanwhile, needed to deal with the awful combination of stomach acid and poison ivy that burned in her throat and mouth.

Jo picked herself up, hustled over to her abandoned cooking station, and filled a cup to the brim with tap water. After she’d downed two glasses, her throat felt a little bit better. For the most part, the water’s main use was neutralizing the nasty taste of bile; the itching remained.

Brick was still eating his stew. Beside Chef, Scott sulked and wiped his mouth with his freckled bicep. Zoey rubbed her neck miserably. Jo filled another cup of water and brought it over to Zoey.

“Drink up, Flower Power,” she commanded. Zoey did so.

“Thanks.” Zoey set the cup down. “I can’t believe we both put poison ivy in our dishes.”

“Especially since I didn’t add any leaves to mine,” Jo agreed, pointedly glancing at Scott. The ginger whistled innocently. Jo’s scowl deepened.

“Done!” Brick proclaimed, triumphantly slamming down his stew bowl. 

Chef took hold of Brick’s wrist and yanked his arm into the air; Brick winced. “The challenge is over. Brick wins!”

Scott and Zoey groaned. Jo weakly cheered for her alliance-mate, but she could only muster a frail fist-pump.

“That’s why he doesn’t have to wear one of these tracking collars!” Chef held up three thick metal rings. Quick as a flash, he snapped one around Jo’s neck. She tugged at it while Scott and Zoey received collars of their own.

“Can you at least give us some medicine or something?” Jo demanded. “My throat still hurts!”

“Now why would I give you medicine?” Chef leered. “Can’t do part two without it? Sounds like sissy talk to me.”

Jo was definitely _not_ a sissy. She had shattered a window yesterday; she could tough out an itchy throat. “Fine. No medicine.”

Chef looked at the camera. “For challenge part two, I give you: Dork Hunter! The challenge is simple. You’re the dorks, I’m the hunter.”

“I’m not a dork!” Scott protested.

“Me neither,” Jo added indignantly.

“Same,” Zoey hesitated. “Unless everyone else thinks I’m a dork.”

“If you keep second-guessing yourself, then yeah, we think you’re a dork,” Jo informed her. Zoey frowned.

“Am I a dork?” Brick asked. Before Jo could inform him that yes, he was a dork, but the cool kind of dork, Chef lost his temper.

“Hush up!” he screamed. A vein bulged in his temple. “I’m trying to explain the challenge!”

Everyone shut up.

To calm himself, Chef inhaled and exhaled. “Please edit that out in post. Now, let’s try this again.” He wiped the sweat off his brow and repeated his spiel. 

“You’re the dorks, I’m the hunter. You run into the woods; I hunt you down. First dork to the flag pole wins!”

“What flag pole?” Zoey asked.

“Y’all never interrupt Chris when _he_ explains challenges,” Chef grumbled. He snapped his fingers, and an intern drove up in the golf cart, parking it behind Chef. The hulking man reached into the back of the cart and whipped out a bazooka. 

Jo’s jaw dropped.

“Pray that you make it before the Dork Hunter blasts you into a new dimension of pain.” Chef waved the bazooka around before pulling out a second item: a can of spaghetti emblazoned with his own face.

 _What is going on_. Jo had no words. In one moment, Chef was reciting a spaghetti cannon commercial; the next, he was shooting a wad of steaming spaghetti at the contestants. Jo and company ducked. The spaghetti ball missed them and nailed an intern right in the abdomen.

“It burns!” the intern wailed. Jo clicked her tongue sympathetically. At least it wasn’t her.

Remorse remained absent from Chef’s dark eyes. “You’ve got twenty minutes to run, hide, and say your prayers. Now move out.”

Brick saluted. “Sir, yes si—aah!” Chef cut him off with a spaghetti blast.

Jo didn’t need to be told twice. As spaghetti whizzed past her head, she made a break for the forest and didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was a fun chapter for me to write. Also, I'm publishing Brick and Zoey's conversation from the beginning of the chapter as a separate story. If you want to read the whole thing, it's called Operation Oatmeal Empathy.


	14. Sisterhood of the Traveling Dorks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo and Zoey team up for the remainder of the challenge. Zoey does an unexpected 180°, and Brick once again tries to play peacemaker.

Jo’s upset stomach, still queasy from the barf-fest, forced her to slow her pace after a few minutes of frantic running. Only at that point did she realize she had company.

“Did you _follow_ me?” Jo asked Zoey. The redhead leaned against a tree, desperately trying to catch her breath.

“Not on _purpose_ ,” she answered, her words ragged as she tried to steady her breathing. “I just ran in the first direction I saw.

“ _Wow_ does it hurt to _breathe_ ,” she added, scrubbing her neck. Just watching Zoey made Jo’s own throat itch. She flexed her wrist, resisting the urge.

“I’m 99% sure we have Freckle Face to blame,” she answered tersely, recalling Scott’s smirk and whistling. “He probably dumped poison ivy into our stuff when we weren’t looking.”

Zoey’s face contorted. “Not cool! After that, are you still gonna take him to the final three?”

 _That_ caught Jo off guard. “Did Brick tell you that?” 

“I asked him outright before the challenge started, and we both know Brick isn’t one to lie.” By now, Zoey’s breathing had steadied. “Can I talk to you about something important?”

Jo glanced behind them. They were alone for now, but they likely only had precious minutes before Chef attacked. “Walk and talk, Red.” 

The girls advanced through the forests, hurrying slightly above normal walking speed. Jo had no idea where the flagpole was, but hopefully, they’d stumble upon it if they just kept walking. In the meantime, Zoey spoke her piece.

“Over and over you’ve told me Total Drama is a strategy game, not a dating show. So this is me putting my strategy over my emotions.” Zoey coughed. “We should team up to make sure Scott doesn’t win immunity in this challenge. Later tonight, we vote him off.”

The request wasn’t entirely out of left-field. Of course Zoey would try to keep herself in the game. Still, the suggestion wasn’t very appealing.

“I see how this benefits you, but I _don’t_ see how this benefits me.”

“Because even though both of you were planning to vote for me, Scott sabotaged you anyways! Don’t you think that crosses a line? Don’t you think he deserves to _pay_? Immediately?”

Hmm. “You do raise a good point,” Jo conceded. She dug her fingernails into her palms; she would _not_ scratch, no matter how much her throat tickled. 

“Well?” Zoey prodded.

And then there also was the fact that Jo, after puking up a smoothie, was not at her peak athletic capability. Teaming up with Zoey would counteract that.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Jo announced. “Scott goes home tonight.”

“Thanks, Jo!” Zoey beamed.

Strategy was such a fickle thing, Jo mused as they trekked through the forest. Only yesterday had Jo been adamant about Scott coming to the final three, and now she was ready to send him home a day early. That was Total Drama for ya, she supposed.

Her throat tickled again. Jo finally succumbed to the urge to scratch, only for her fingers to uselessly brush against the metal tracking collar.

“Is there any way we can get these off?” She tugged the collar. Immediately, a shockwave jolted through her. “Ack!”

“Are you okay?” Zoey asked. 

Jo inhaled the charcoal-like smell of singed hair. “I’ve been better. What is _wrong_ with Chef? Not only is he tracking us, but there’s an anti-removal _shock_ feature?”

“That’s demented,” Zoey agreed. “Ugh, between these shock collars and Mike getting voted off, I’ve just about _had it_ with this show!”

Jo rolled her eyes. “That would make a great confessional line.”

“You think so? Thanks.” Zoey chuckled. “Remind me to use it later.”

They jogged in silence for several more minutes. 

“Do you hear that?” Zoey asked suddenly.

Jo listened and immediately pinpointed what Zoey had heard: the unmistakable sound of golf cart tires crunching twigs and leaves.

“Okay, no _way_ is twenty minutes up already,” Jo griped. 

“ _Here’s Cheffy_!” Chef’s cackle rang out through the woods.

“Pick up the pace!” Jo broke into a sprint. Her stomach somersaulted as a glob of spaghetti whizzed by her head.

“He’s right behind us!” Zoey squeaked. Impressively, she kept pace with Jo.

Chef gained on them, crowing gleefully as he fired shot after shot at them.

“Aim better, Old Man!” Jo yelled angrily.

Zoey stumbled. “Don’t encourage him! I’m too young to die!”

The forest's canopy gave way to open sky. Jo skidded to a halt. “Watch it!” A chasm opened at their feet. Below, an assortment of junk, trash, and rocks waited to break the girls’ fall.

Backed into a corner, Jo and Zoey turned around to face Chef. Their pursuer slammed on the brake pedal and raised his bazooka.

“Hunt’s over, Dorkettes!” he snarled.

“Okay okay, you win!” Zoey waved a hand frantically, begging for peace.

Jo slapped her arm down. “Don’t concede defeat!”

Chef leered. “Nah, you’re defeated alright.”

He fired the first shot. Jo ducked instinctively. The spaghetti slammed into Zoey. She teetered for a moment before falling back into the canyon.

“Aaah!”

“Oh _great_!” Jo groaned. “Screw you, Chef!”

Before Chef could shoot her, Jo swung down so she was parallel with the gorge wall. Once again, she made use of her excellent rock climbing skills. Her knuckles scraped against the jagged rocks while she searched for adequate handholds. Step by step, swing by swing, Jo descended the canyon. When she was about six feet from the ground, Jo jumped off the wall and hurried over to Zoey, who sniffled pathetically.

“Red!” Jo nearly shook her. “We don’t have time for moping!”

“Look!” Zoey held up a medallion, cracked straight down the middle. Despite the crack, Jo noticed a very familiar face engraved upon it. “M-mike gave this to me, and now it’s broken!” 

“He gave you a _necklace_?” Jo asked incredulously. “With his _face_ on it?” That alone brought back Jo’s nausea.

“Yes!” Zoey’s fist closed around the necklace. One moment she blinked back tears; the next, her eyes were dry. Her mouth hardened into a firm red line as she stared at her fist. “Do you know what this means, Jo?”

 _It means Mike is even weirder than I thought_. But she doubted that was the answer Zoey was looking for. “What does it mean?”

Her companion’s head snapped up. The intensity in Zoey’s brown eyes startled Jo. “This means _war_.”

Jo smiled, confused but also impressed. Finally, Red was speaking her language. “Heck yeah. Channel that anger!”

Zoey tore off the bottom of her tube top and tied the fabric around her head.

“That’s not what I meant.” Jo’s brows furrowed. “What exactly are you doing?”

Zoey glanced her way as she dragged charcoal across her cheeks, leaving two black streaks. “If I’m going to avenge Mike by destroying Chef and Scott, I’m going to need to look the part. It’s time to channel my inner Katia Everbean.”

The name didn’t ring a bell. “Who?”

“The protagonist of _The Famine Match_?” Zoey prompted.

Oh right. Jo had skipped those movies because she’d heard they relied too much on a yucky love triangle. “Never watched ‘em. I prefer _good_ action movies, thank you very much.”

For a moment, the bloodlust disappeared from Zoey’s eyes. “Really? Even _I_ watched them, and usually I hate—”

“Off-topic!” Jo snapped her fingers in front of Zoey’s face. “I don’t understand anything you’ve done in the past two minutes, but what I do understand is that we only have limited time before Chef gets back or Scott wins the challenge.”

“Got it.” Zoey nodded solemnly. “We should split up for now. You keep heading north, in search of the flagpole. Climb a tree; you’ll have a better vantage point. I’m going to set traps for Chef.”

“Traps? Isn’t that a little Scott-ish?”

“Trust me. Mine will be _way_ better than Scott’s ever were.” Unsmiling, Zoey held out her hand.

“Works for me.” Jo shook it and saluted Zoey. Dang it, Brick’s mannerisms were rubbing off on her. “See ya on the other side,” she said.

Zoey nodded once before scaling the cliff wall, leaving Jo alone at the bottom of the chasm.

“How did she _do_ that?” Jo wondered aloud, staring at the spot where Zoey had just been. While filming the third episode at Mount Looming Tragedy, Zoey had struggled during the rock climbing challenge, but the minute her medallion broke, she turned into a rock climbing master?

“Okay,” Jo said to herself as she jogged. “Definitely take a psych course in school next year. Maybe then I’ll be able to figure out how Zoey did a complete 180 in three minutes.”

Eventually, the chasm leveled out, and Jo found herself in another section of the forest. As she traveled, the itch in her throat dwindled, thank goodness. Though she had yet to find any sign of the flagpole, at least she hadn’t run into Chef a second time.

 _Climb up a tree_ , Zoey had advised. _You’ll have a better vantage point_.

And so climb Jo did. She located a particularly tall oak that would be perfect for her purposes. As an added bonus, it had plenty of sturdy branches; scaling the whole thing would be a cinch. Jo grabbed onto the lowest branch and kept going up.

As she climbed, Jo’s thoughts wandered to her alliance mate. What was Brick up to right now? If the girls had stuck together, maybe the boys had formed a temporary alliance as well. For Brick’s sake, Jo hoped he’d been smart enough to distance himself from Scott, whose tracking collar would lead Chef straight to both of them.

 _And what happens next?_ Jo pondered as she reached for a limb above her. Then they’d win the challenge, and Scott would be voted out tonight. 

She hoisted herself onto the next bough. After that, Zoey would go home tomorrow, and the day after _that_ , Jo would beat Brick in the finale and win the million dollars.

Onto the next branch. And after that? They’d all go their separate ways, Jo would spend her money, and she likely wouldn’t see Brick again—

Her foot slipped.

Jo cursed as she suddenly fell several inches. Though the distance was minimal, it was enough to remind her that she needed to focus. She readjusted her stance and resumed climbing. This time, her thoughts dwelled on nothing but the branch-by-branch ascent ahead of her.

At last, she reached the summit of the tree. Jo twisted around to get a look at the landscape. If she hadn’t been the mid-challenge, maybe she would’ve better appreciated the view of Wawanakwa’s sprawling green forests. For the present, she scanned the wilderness. Where oh where was that pesky flagpole?

“Aha!” Jo yelled when she finally located a checkered flag. “Gotcha!” The finish line was, at her best estimate, about a quarter-mile from her tree. If she sprinted—and didn’t upset her stomach in the process—she’d probably be able to win.

Jo climbed down the tree in a third of the time it had taken her to climb up. “Time to end this stupid game!” She took off en route to the flagpole.

* * *

Five minutes later, Jo reached the crest of a hill. To her delight, the flagpole came into view, about a hundred yards away. To her utter dismay, Chef stood dead center between Jo and the finish.

Not wanting to risk an encounter with the spaghetti canon, Jo ducked to the right and landed in a bush. She peeked out, searching for an opportunity to run; however, Chef wasn’t even looking in her direction.

“Get down from there!” he yelled, glaring up at a tree on his left. 

_Has Chef lost it_? Jo craned her neck, trying to see what he was yelling at.

“It’s over, Chef!” Zoey perched on a tree branch, gazing down at her prey. “I have the high ground!”

“You underestimate my power!” Chef steadied his bazooka and aimed up at the tree.

“Don’t try it,” Zoey warned.

 _Bam_. Chef fired a clump right at her. Amazingly, Zoey deftly kicked the spaghetti ball back at Chef’s face.

“Aah!” Chef keeled over, his screams muffled by his own ammo. Jo’s eyes widened.

Brick had been right. Zoey was no pushover.

Now that Chef was distracted, Jo rolled out of the bush and made a dash for the finish line.

“Thanks for the cover, Red!” she yelled as she passed Zoey, who was tying Chef’s feet together with a spool of twine. Zoey flashed Jo a thumbs up.

Thirty yards from the finish line, a polka-dotted moose nearly trampled Jo.

“What the—” Jo skidded to a halt while the moose bucked berserkly. Brick sat on its back, trying—and failing—to control the beast.

“Ah!” he shrieked as the moose tossed him off. Jo ran over to help him up.

“What are you _doing_?” Jo yelled hotly, pulling him to his feet.

“I hitched a ride,” a slightly-dazed Brick explained. “I earned the moose-riding medal back at basic training.”

She couldn't tell if he was joking or not. “No time for reminiscing! We gotta win!” Jo dragged him in the direction of the flagpole.

Enter Scott, pursued by shark. Running from the other direction, he barrelled past the finish line, Fang hot on his tail.

“Sucker!” Jo crowed. 

“Hey, Jo, catch this!” He chucked an object over her head.

Instinctively, she reached and caught a flat white object. _Fang’s tooth_. Scott cackled and turned on his heel.

 _Oh no_. The mutant shark advanced on her, grinning darkly.

“Hey!” Jo screamed, running in the opposite direction. “Don’t eat me!”

“Drop the tooth, Jo!” Brick yelled after her.

That hadn’t occurred to her. Jo hurled the tooth at a tree. Fang followed it blindly and scooped it up. He grinned widely, delighted to be reunited with his tooth. Most importantly, he wasn’t trying to eat Jo anymore.

The whirr of a siren spun Jo around. Scott leaned against the flagpole, smirking triumphantly.

Chef limped past Jo. His hands were tied behind his back, and clumps of tomato sauce and spaghetti clung to his face and shoulders.

“Scott wins immunity!” he announced. “Can one of y’all untie me, please?”

“No,” Jo said rudely.

Her shock collar undid itself; Jo caught it in her hands and looked to the left. In one hand, Zoey held her own collar; in the other, she held the remote that had disabled them, likely stolen from Chef. 

Zoey stalked over, scowling. “How could you let Scott win?”

“ _Me_?” Jo repeated, offended. “You got here before way any of us did! You could’ve tagged the pole before you took out Chef.”

“By taking out Chef, I gave _you_ the perfect opportunity to win.” Zoey folded her arms. “And then Scott distracted you with that shark tooth.”

“Well excuse me for fearing for my life!” 

“Soldiers! No need to fight.” Brick joined them. “We put forth an admirable effort from all fronts.”

“And what were _you_ doing?” Zoey snapped at his peace-making efforts. “Standing around and watching?”

“Leave Brick out of this!” Jo stepped in defensively. “It’s not like we had a chance to tell him we changed the voting plan.”

“You changed the plan?” Brick looked more confused than ever. 

Zoey exhaled and wrung her hands. “You’re right. I’m sorry I snapped, Brick. We did change the plan, but it doesn’t matter now because Scott has immunity.”

Jo's eyebrows rose. Of course Zoey was peeved; despite her best attempts to change her fate, it was clear she’d be placing fourth. Tough luck.

“At least you made it this far,” Jo said. She meant it as a consolation, but Zoey’s scowl returned.

Brick renewed his peace-keeping efforts. “Soldiers! Obviously morale is low today.”

“You’ve got that right.” Zoey tugged on a pigtail.

“Whenever disagreements arose at boot camp, sarge always insisted on a bonding activity together to work out differences and boost spirits.”

“Let me guess.” Jo raised an eyebrow. “ _We’re_ going to do a bonding activity.”

“Affirmative!” Brick answered cheerfully.

“Can _someone_ please untie me?” Chef yelled as they left the forest.

“Maybe we should—”

Jo patted Brick’s shoulder. “ _No_.”

A half-hour later, all three of them piled into a canoe. Jo’s unrelenting insistence on leading earned her the front seat; Brick sat in the middle, and a still-annoyed Zoey sat in the back.

For the first part of the ride, they recounted their experiences during the challenge. Brick gave context to the moose incident; he’d ridden it to find the flagpole faster and get rid of Scott, who had been following him around for most of the challenge. Jo and Zoey explained how they had teamed up with the intention of voting for Scott.

“He was responsible for the poison ivy? That’s underhanded, even for Scott!”

“Y’know, you and Scott are total opposites,” Jo commented, dipping her paddle onto the left side of the canoe. “You have a strict moral code, and Scott hasn’t done a single ethical thing during his entire time on the show.”

Zoey snorted. “You can say that again.”

“Doin’ alright back there, Zoey?” Brick asked.

“Not really,” Zoey answered plainly. “You’d be mad too if you knew you had just lost your chance at a million dollars.”

“Well hey, there’s always next season,” Jo joked. If there was to be a next season, that is.

“Nothing you’ve ever said has ever made me feel better,” Zoey deadpanned.

Jo glanced back. “No ‘sorry’ or ‘no offense’ or ‘please don’t hate me for saying this?’ You’ve grown a spine, Zoey.”

“Guess I got tired of being treated like dirt.”

“Don’t know why it took a wardrobe adjustment, but hey, good for you.”

“Clothes are essential to self-confidence,” Brick interjected. “Personally, I think it’s admirable that Zoey’s outfit reflects her newfound convictions.”

“Thanks, Brick.” Zoey chuckled. “But it’s not that deep, I swear. I was just trying to get in the zone, imagining myself as one of my favorite action heroines.”

“In other words, you were roleplaying,” Jo summarized. “That makes you a nerd!”

“I’m not a nerd!” Zoey shot back. “Not in the traditional sense, anyways.”

They spent most of the afternoon paddling around the lake. Brick and Jo did most of the talking at first, but eventually Zoey livened up and joined in. Lunchtime came and went, but the girls weren’t hungry—for obvious reasons—so the trio stayed out on the water. At one point, Jo tried to steer them towards Boney Island, but Brick’s and Zoey’s screams of protests forced her to turn the canoe around.

Mid-afternoon, they returned to the island. Brick volunteered to return the canoe back to the boathouse. Jo was about to leave, ready to start an intensive workout session in her room, when Zoey stopped her.

“I told Brick this earlier, but I don’t hold Mike’s elimination against you,” Zoey said. “You picked a strategy and stuck to it. I can respect that.”

“Glad you’re starting to see it my way.” Jo smiled. This new side of Zoey was leagues more fun to talk to than the other side of Zoey.

“I’m gonna go wash off this face paint before dinner.” Zoey gestured to the black marks on her cheeks. “Wanna come with?”

“Uh.”

“You can recommend me some good action flicks,” Zoey added. “Y’know, since _The Famine Match_ apparently isn’t your style.”

A chance to indoctrinate someone into the _Charlie’s Devils_ cult following? Heck yeah.

“Alright. Sounds cool.” Jo shrugged, and they left for the washroom.

* * *

After dinner, the contestants headed to the confessional to vote.

“And we were just starting to get along, too,” Jo commented as she crossed out Zoey’s photo. “You’re not half-bad, Red, even if you think _Total Action 2_ is better than _Charlie’s Devils_.”

At the campfire pit, Jo sat down in the front row beside Scott, who had voted before her.

“Well that was an easy vote,” Scott said airly.

Jo rolled her eyes. “Enjoy your last night on the island, Sharkbait.”

Several moments later, Brick and Zoey sat down. Chef lumbered into the firepit clearing, the Marshmallow of Loserdom tucked under his left arm.

“How’d you get out of the woods?” Jo asked. “We left you there to die.”

Chef glared at her. “If I had my way, I’d kick you off right now.”

“Just read the votes,” Zoey demanded.

Through his hazmat suit’s plastic face shield, Chef squinted at the votes in his hand.

“We got one for Zoey. One for Jo.”

Jo raised a brow.

Chef wiped his brow. “And the last two are for…”

He trailed off, trying and failing to manufacture tension. Jo stifled a yawn.

“Zoey.” Chef tossed the glowing marshmallow at her.

The marshmallow missed her; she ducked to the side, and it sunk into the ground with a gentle hiss.

“Let’s do this.” Zoey’s expression was set in determination.

Zoey and Chef marched down to the dock. Jo and Brick followed, as did Scott, though Jo couldn’t imagine his motive for coming along.

At the dock, Chef stopped to unzip his hazmat suit, giving them a small window of time for goodbyes.

Brick saluted Zoey. “It was an honor serving with you, ma’am.”

“I’m gonna miss you, Brick.” Zoey hugged him. She whispered something in his ear that Jo couldn’t make out.

Brick coughed. “I’ll consider it, but I make no promises.”

“Consider _what_?” Jo demanded. Zoey moved on and faced her squarely.

“Jo,” she said, “remember when I voted you out and you asked me if I regretted it?”

“Vaguely?” So much had happened since then, but Jo recalled the conversation. “You said you didn’t know yet.”

“I know now. I don’t regret it.” Zoey smiled and held out her hand. “Kick Scott’s butt for me.”

Jo took her hand, intending to shake it, but Zoey pulled her into a hug instead. 

“No hard feelings?” Jo asked, pulling away after a few moments.

“No hard feelings.” Zoey smiled.

The smile disappeared when she strolled over to Scott. 

“Yeah, I don’t have anything good to say to you.”

Scott rolled his eyes.

Chef handed his hazmat over to an intern. “Alright, alright, get in the catapult.” While Zoey climbed in, he rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “I’ve been waiting to be the hurl master.”

“And you’ll have to keep waiting!” A familiar face flew in on his patented jetpack.

“Chris!” Scott, Brick, and Jo cried. Jo had to wonder if he’d been waiting to make a spectacular reappearance since he hadn’t been in the washroom when she’d gone inside earlier.

“I’m the hurl master of this game!” Chris announced proudly before the smile dropped off his face. “And seriously? You guys couldn’t have voted Scott off tonight?”

“We were gonna vote him off if he hadn’t been _immune_ ,” Jo pointed out. 

“Sorry, Chris,” said Scott, not looking very sorry at all.

“You’re gonna pay for flinging me into a _pit_ of _poo_.” Chris glared at him.

Jo smiled. “If you want him to pay, Chris, you should’ve just asked.” Without further ado, she shoved Scott off the dock. 

“Ack!” he screamed right before he hit the water. From the catapult, Zoey cheered.

Chris chuckled. “That’s a start. Anyways, see ya later, Zoey!”

He cranked the handle and Zoey disappeared into the dark sky, screaming all the while.

“Good to have you back, Chris! I even saved you some stew!” Chef held out a bowl of Scott’s Southern Surprise for Chris.

“Chef! You are the man!”

Brick leaned over to Jo. “Isn’t that—”

“ _Shhh_.” She grinned, keeping her eyes trained on the host as he raised the broth to his lips and drank. 

Almost immediately, Chris’ cheeks bulged and his eyes popped open. The host doubled over and vomited all over the dock. And since Jo hadn’t eaten any poison ivy in the past three hours, she was free to enjoy the humiliating display without nauseating herself.

“You _are_ the hurl master!” Chef laughed at Chris. Jo chuckled at the pun.

“Isn’t this just great?” she asked, absent-mindedly resting her arm on Brick’s shoulder while Chris continued throwing up the stew.

He nodded and smiled at her. “This is pretty satisfactory.”

Between retches, Chris signed off the show, then yelled at them to go to bed.

“Woo hoo, final two!” Jo cheered as they walked back to camp.

“Scott’s still here,” Brick reminded her.

“I kinda forgot about him after I pushed him into the lake,” Jo admitted. “What a shame. Hope he doesn’t get eaten by Fang.”

“Now that you returned Fang’s tooth, perhaps he’ll lose interest in Scott.”

“Do you _have_ to discredit everything I say?” Jo made a face.

Brick held his hands up defensively. “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up, captain.”

“My hopes are right where they need to be,” she assured him. Then she remembered something. “Hey, what did Zoey whisper to you back on the dock?”

“Hmm? Oh, nothing important.” Brick tucked his hands into his pockets, feigning nonchalance.

“Sounded pretty important to me.”

They reached the cabin. “It’s just mushy feelings stuff. You wouldn’t be interested.”

“Blegh.” Jo stuck her tongue out. “Feelings? Is that all you guys talk about?”

“In short, yes,” Brick answered benignly. Jo couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.

She opened the door to her room. “Welp, see ya tomorrow. Watch out for Scott, he might put spiders in your pillow or something.”

“I appreciate the concern. I’ll remain vigilant.” Brick saluted Jo; she saluted back, and they went their separate ways.

Her stomach felt funny, which was weird, because she’d gotten the poison ivy out of her system hours ago.

Jo closed the door behind her and surveyed the dorm. Zoey’s hairbrush, the one she had thrown at Jo that morning, sat on the dresser beside her makeup bag. Her chestnut backpack sagged against an unmade bed. Everywhere Jo looked, remnants of her ex-roommate remained. No one had prepared her for the surrealness of it all.

“Last girl standing,” Jo muttered, kicking her shoes off. “Woo hoo.”

With only her fluttering stomach keeping her company, Jo fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I love the concept of Commando Zoey in canon, but it also felt like a really jarring shift, especially once she reverted back to her old self in the finale. Here I wanted to approach it as if Zoey was roleplaying/taking inspiration from her favorite fictional characters (like Jo, I haven't watched or read the Hunger Games, lol). I'll talk a little bit more about Zoey's elimination next chapter.  
> Scott's still waiting on a good dosage of proper karma, but that'll come eventually... right?
> 
> Elimination order: Staci, Dakota, B, Anne Maria, Dawn, Sam, Cameron, Lightning, Mike, Zoey  
> Final three: Jo, Brick, Scott


	15. Journey to the Center of the Bog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During the penultimate challenge, Scott disappears. Brick and Jo team up against Chris' weirdo pet plant, Larry.

Jo prodded her breakfast egg with a fork. “This doesn’t look disgusting. I’m surprised.”

“Didn’t I tell you Chef’s cooking turned a corner yesterday?” Across from her, Brick peeled the shell off his egg. 

“Yeah, but you were in the middle of eating his disgusting oatmeal,” she answered dryly. “Excuse me if I didn’t believe you.”

Soft-boiled eggs weren’t Jo’s usual cup of tea. But as long they didn’t poison her or catch her throat on fire, she’d eat up.

Jo was peppering her egg when Scott walked into the mess hall.

“Late as usual,” she remarked, eyeing him as he went to retrieve breakfast from Chef.

Brick glanced over at Scott. “Tardiness like that wouldn’t do him any favors at basic training.”

“It’s not gonna do him any favors here, either.” Jo unscrewed the cap of the pepper shaker. She yelled across the room: “Hey, Shark Breath!”

Scott strolled over, egg cup in hand. “What can I do ya for?” he asked sarcastically.

Jo hurled the pepper shaker at Scott’s face. Pepper flakes spilled across his face and chest. Scott’s nose twitched, and he sneezed violently. Several times. Jo smirked.

“That’s for putting ivy in my food yesterday!” she declared vindictively.

Between sneezes, Scott wiped his arm across his face in an attempt to dispel the pepper.

“You’re—” Sneeze. “—gonna—” Sneeze. “—pay—” Sneeze. “—for—” Sneeze. “—that!” Scott glared daggers at her.

“After tomorrow, I can spare some extra cash to pay for it,” she answered. Brick laughed.

Scott stalked off to eat outside.

“It might not be wise to antagonize him like that.” Brick took a bite of his egg. After swallowing, he added, “Especially during the final three.”

“Relax, Brick. It’s two on one, advantage: us.” Jo chewed on her own egg. “Besides, I’m not gonna forget the poison ivy incident that easily.”

“Nevertheless, attacking the enemy unprovoked could backfire.” Brick furrowed his brow.

“Brick.” Jo leaned across the table, placed her hand over his, and smiled plainly. “I don’t care.”

He colored slightly before tucking back into his egg. 

It occurred to Jo as she ate that this was their second-to-last breakfast before the game ended. After a week and a half of electric shocks, killer mutants, toxic mines, and annoying teammates, the finish loomed over them.

She frowned at the egg in front of her. Where had the time gone?

“Jo,” Brick began, drawing her attention outside of her thoughts, “I was thinking maybe—”

“Campers, drop everything and return to the cabins ASAP!” the loudspeaker yelled.

“Game on!” Jo shoved the rest of her breakfast egg into her mouth and leapt to her feet. Brick did the same, and they ran out to the cabin area.

Parked in the center of the clearing was Chris’ golf cart. Chef was bent over, hooking a utility trailer to the back of the vehicle. Chris himself sat in the shotgun seat, whistling laxly.

“What’s going on?” Jo asked, halting a few feet away from Scott.

Chris smiled his host smile. “The next challenge is on the other side of the island, so we’re providing you with transportation!” 

“You didn’t give us a ride the last time we went to the other side of the island,” Brick pointed out.

“That’s because we’re going to the _other_ other side of the island!” Chris explained. “You’ve never been there before.”

“The _other_ other side?” Scott repeated skeptically. 

Chris’ host smile dulled. “Stop asking questions, ‘kay? All will be explained when I do the challenge introduction.” He waved around a stack of cue cards.

“Get in, ya sissies!” Chef yelled.

Jo, Brick, and Scott climbed into the trailer. Chef revved the golf cart engine, and the party sped off.

“How could there possibly be a part of the island I haven’t visited yet?” Jo wondered aloud. The trailer bumped as they crossed the rocky terrain, jostling her uncomfortably. “I’ve ran at least a 5k every day we’ve been here.”

Brick shrugged, at a loss just as much as she was. “Perhaps our routes run exclusively through the southern side of the island?”

“Or maybe it’s a robotic island,” Scott suggested, “and Chris creates a new landscape any time he needs it for a challenge.”

“Get a load of this guy!” Jo scoffed. “Whoever heard of a robotic island?”

“Hey! It could happen,” Scott snapped.

“In your demented dreams.”

They spent the rest of the ride in near silence. Jo watched the scenery change. As Chef drove further from camp, the forest grew denser and darker. Mushrooms wound around tree trunks. Out of the ground sprouted thick purple tendrils. Plants Jo couldn’t name popped up all over the place. 

“I am definitely getting some Alice in Wonderland vibes,” she commented when they passed a cluster of neon blue flowers. If they happened to cross paths with a tuxedo-wearing talking mutant rabbit, Jo wouldn’t bat an eye.

“What is _that_?” Brick pointed at an enormous winged creature fluttering above them.

“That’s a mutant housefly.” Jo poked him. “C’mon, you know the drill by now.”

“I’ll never get used to these mutants.” Brick shuddered, keeping his eyes on the fly.

Before Jo could think up a witty retort, Chef slammed on the breaks. The sudden halt sent the trailer colliding into the back of the golf cart.

“Ack!” Jo winced at the impact, as did Scott and Brick.

“Quit your complaining, it wasn’t _that_ bad.” Chris hopped out of the cart. “Get in line, folks! Let’s get this challenge started!”

A few minutes later, they idled in line. Chris stood across from them next to a large orange flower. After a quick check that the camera angles were correct, Chris started his spheal.

“Finalists”—Jo couldn’t help but beam at the label—“welcome to the Mutant Forest of Terror!” Chris waggled his fingers like he was telling a ghost story. Jo’s smile disappeared.

“This is the most radioactive spot on the island,” Chris continued. “In case you couldn’t tell from the biohazardous sinkholes.”

Brick glanced around nervously, taking a few steps back. “W-what biohazardous sinkh—aah!”

The ground gave way beneath him. Reflexively, Jo grabbed his wrist and yanked him closer, to safety. 

“If you die on me, I will be _so_ peeved,” she muttered. Brick nodded vigorously.

Just in case he tripped into a sinkhole again, she held onto his wrist.

Chris seemed unperturbed that one of his contestants had almost bit the dust. “They really put the ‘mutant’ in Mutant Forest of Terror, don’t they?”

“I guess?” Scott answered the rhetorical question. Jo rolled her eyes.

“Another fun fact”—Chris was on a roll today—“they’re also where Chef gets the Toxic Marshmallow of Loserdom! One of you gets to eat that tonight.”

“Didn’t know Scott’s real name is ‘one of you,’” Jo joked.

Neither Scott nor Chris laughed. _Tough crowd._

“The challenge: race through the Mutant Forest of Terror and retrieve the elusive Chris-a-lis flower!” Chris held up a notebook. Taped to the front was a photograph of the pink flower. It was even uglier than the one Zoey had worn in her hair.

“First person to present it to me wins immunity.”

“Wait a minute.” The wheels turned in Jo’s brain. “Then the winner pretty much picks who to take with them to the finale!”

“Correctamundo,” Chris confirmed.

Jo met Brick’s gaze. His grin matched hers. _Victory is as good as ours_.

“Thanks for making this so _easy_ , Chris,” Scott drawled, scowling. “Flower picking? Seriously?”

Chris smiled benignly. “Can you come over here, Scott?”

Scott obeyed, sidling up right beside the orange flower. A tongue of fire erupted from its mouth. It lit Scott’s pants on fire.

Scott shrieked and ran around like a headless chicken.

“It burns!” Scott wailed, swatting at his flaming butt. Jo could only laugh.

Chef materialized with a fire extinguisher and ended Scott’s misery.

“In addition to hazardous flowers such as this _lovely_ flamethrower”—Chris patted the flower—“you’ll encounter other freakish specimens. Specifically, the Venus flytrap that is home to the Chris-a-lis flower.”

“Are you referring to the _meat-eating_ plant Venus flytrap?” Brick asked, his eyes wide.

“Uh-huh!” Chris nodded cheerfully. “I call him Larry.”

“Seems easy enough.” Jo released Brick’s wrist so she could punch a fist into her palm. “Kill the giant man-eating plant, kidnap its flower. All in a day’s work.”

“No!” Chris yelped. “If you kill Larry, I will immediately disqualify you from the competition!”

Sheesh. Jo stepped back. “Fine, I won’t gut your precious plant. Happy?”

“Extremely.” The easy smile returned to Chris’ face. “Find Larry, and you’ll find the flower.”

“How are we supposed to locate our target, sir?” Brick inquired.

From his back pocket, Chris produced a large paper and held it up for them to see.

“We each get a map!” cried Scott, always Captain Obvious.

“No, you each get a _piece_ of the map.” Chris tore the map into equal thirds and handed each piece back to the contestants. “You think printer cartridges grow on trees? You can work together, or you can go at it alone. See ya later!”

Chris rejoined Chef on the golf cart, and the adults drove off.

Jo glared daggers at Scott. “I say we throw Freckle Face into a sinkhole.”

Scott’s pupils shrank. Clearly, he understood she wasn’t joking. “Er, I’m gonna go now. See ya, suckers!” He sprinted into the bushes.

“Meh. I’ll throw him into a sinkhole later.” Jo held up her map. “Let’s see what we got.”

She and Brick lined up their map pieces. The trail wound through the forest, passing landmarks with such names as “Radioactive Flowerpatch of Evil” and “Chernobyl Chasm of Decay.” 

“‘Noxious Bog of Mortality?’” Jo pointed to one particular label on the right side of the paper, partially cut off. “I’m pretty sure Chris uses a random name generator to come up with this junk.”

“But where is our objective?” Brick asked, peering over her shoulder.

“Scott must have Larry’s location,” Jo deduced. “I hope they didn’t teach him map reading on that farm of his.” 

“Luckily for us, I earned the navigation medal at boot camp,” Brick said. “Once the map runs out, I can use those skills to determine Larry’s location.” He handed his map slice to Jo; she pocketed both pieces in her hoodie pouch.

“No time to waste. Let’s move out!” She pumped a fist in the air, and they charged off down the trail.

Impressively, they trekked for a whole ten minutes before their first near-death encounter. At that point, the ground abruptly caved in front of Jo, creating a deep pit of lime-green waste.

“Woah!” Jo swerved, narrowly missing certain doom.

“Careful, captain!” Brick said cheekily.

He ran straight into a tree two seconds later. “Oof!”

“Careful yourself.” Jo waited while he picked himself up. Brick could be so inept at times. And while mostly it was funny, if not a little bit endearing, it also meant he’d be a cinch to beat in the finale. 

And if she knew that, did _he_ know it? 

Jo frowned when they resumed their jog down the trail.

Brick picked up on her mood change. “Something the matter, captain?”

“If you win this challenge, you _better_ not take Scott to the finale.” Jo fixed him with a hard stare.

“We’re partners!” Brick protested. “Why _wouldn’t_ I bring you to the finale?”

“You might take Scott over me because I’m athletically superior to you,” Jo pointed out, ducking under a low-hanging tree branch. “You’d have a better shot of beating him than me.”

“All accurate statements, but that still doesn’t change the fact that I’d pick you over Scott in a heartbeat. Don’t you trust me?” Hurt shone in Brick’s dark eyes. An unexpected pang of remorse caught Jo off guard.

“I trust you way more than I trust Scott,” she said hurriedly. “It just never hurts to double-check.”

“You have nothing to worry about on this front. I am Team Dude all the way!”

“I think Team Girl Power has a better ring to it,” Jo answered dryly.

“With all due respect, captain, I don’t think it does.”

They reached a fork in the trail. Jo pulled out the map. “How ‘bout we change the name to Team Jo?” she suggested, scanning the map. They were somewhere between the “Poison Pine Trees of Death” and the “Malignant Mushrooms of Ruin.”

“Works for me,” Brick agreed. “Where to next?”

Jo pointed down the right path. “This way!”

They ran off again. Not two minutes later did a familiar ginger farm boy come into view. Scott took his sweet time, whistling while he walked. Jo spotted his map tucked into his back pocket.

She skidded to a halt and raised her arm so Brick would stop as well.

“Are we utilizing the element of surprise to ambush him?” he whispered.

“You read my mind.” Jo nodded at Scott’s map. “We get that, we’re as good as in the finale.”

Brick kept his voice down while he saluted. “Commence Operation Cartography Retrieval.”

It was a dumb name, but Jo let it slide. They crept closer to Scott, and Jo flexed her fingers, ready to snatch the map from her unsuspecting enemy.

Scott stretched his arms above his head, whistling all the while. When he dropped his arms back to his sides, however, his left arm brushed against the map. It edged out of his pocket and fluttered to the trail.

Jo and Brick froze. _Is he gonna notice_? She wondered. The distance between Scott and the map grew, and still, he didn’t turn around to check it was still there.

When Scott disappeared around the bend, Jo snatched the map up in a heartbeat.

“That was _so_ easy!” she cackled, whipping out the other two map components. “We didn’t even have to _do_ anything.”

Brick’s focus was on the trail. “Almost too easy. We know Scott to be a master of strategy. Who’s to say he didn’t drop it on purpose?”

Jo considered that; Brick had a point. Scott’s behavior flip-flopped between ‘idiot’ and ‘intelligent’ so often, it was hard to tell one from the other. 

She held up Scott’s map so both of them could examine it. “Do you think it’s a forgery?”

But unless Scott had crazy-good forgery skills, all three pieces lined up seamlessly. The fonts, colors, and pathways all matched.

“Looks legit to me,” Jo decided after a few moments. “Let’s not get caught up in hypotheticals, okay? Scott screwed up, and we benefit because of it. Got it?”

“Roger that.” Brick nodded. 

“Okay, there’s two points of interest.” Jo first pointed to the red X in the upper right-hand corner of Scott’s map. “The flytrap and the flower are in the bog.” She traced her finger along a trail that led away from the X and ended with a small checkered flag. “And here’s the finish line.”

Brick grinned. “Our mission just got a whole lot easier.”

They ran. Despite having been ahead of them moments earlier, Scott was nowhere to be seen. In Jo’s book, that was a good thing. Maybe he’d been devoured by a carnivorous rosebush.

The closer they got to their destination, the more their surroundings shifted. More and more barrels of toxic waste popped up, cheerlessly decorating the landscape. Pungent garlic-and-bleach fumes stank up the air, irritating Jo’s throat only slightly less than had yesterday's bout of poison ivy. Waterlogged ground sunk underfoot. Pools of lime-green toxic waste bathed the bog in a sickly green light.

And yet there was still no sign of Scott.

Jo slowed to a walk and pulled out the map.

“Alright,” she said, head buried in the map, “let me know if you—” One misstep found Jo teetering dangerously over the expanse of toxic waste.

Green. Green everywhere.

“Aah!” She flailed, trying to regain her balance.

“Watch out!” Brick caught her just before she fell in. His hand found hers and pulled her to safety.

“Not my proudest moment.” She winced and glanced at the waste pit that had nearly claimed her. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

“Well, you saved me earlier. Of course I’m going to repay the favor.” Brick shrugged as if it was no big deal. “That’s part of the cadet code, and the code is important.”

“Right underneath ‘never leave a man behind,’ right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded seriously. “We’re both making it out of here alive.”

“Glad we’re in agreement on that.” Dying in a bog of toxic waste would suck majorly.

Brick hadn’t released her hand. Frankly, in an environment like this, she was in no hurry to let go, either. Her warm face she chalked up to the toxic waste bubbling around her.

“Uh, Jo?” Brick pointed over her shoulder. “Venus flytrap, twelve o’clock.”

She turned around. Their target sat thirty yards away on an island of solid ground. Toothy jaws enveloped a single pink flower at the center of the flytrap.

“That thing is _huge_!” Jo cried.

“Nope! He’s colossal!” came Chris’s voice over a loudspeaker. When did he have time to install a loudspeaker in a bog?

“Shut up, Chris!” Jo yelled; no response.

“Are we forging ahead?” Brick asked, gesturing at the stepping stone path that wound through the waste. Jo wondered if Scott had been right with his ‘Chris has a mechanical island’ theory; the perfectly-placed stones led directly to Larry’s island. 

“Attack!” she yelled, letting go of Brick’s hand and charging across the stepping stones.

When she reached the fifth rock, it wobbled underneath her. 

_What the heck_? Jo dropped to her knees, steadying herself as the “rock” rose into the air. A pair of wrathful eyes emerged from the mire, staring her down.

“Giant mutant turtle!” Brick shrieked from the third rock.

The turtle roared at Jo and bucked, trying to throw her off. 

“Not so fast, freak!” she yelled. Jo deftly slid off the left side of the shell, landing safely on the other side of the path.

The turtle twisted its neck and bellowed another angry roar at Jo. She steeled herself, then punched it square in the jaw.

As she had hoped, the punch left the turtle more disorientated than angry. Cross-eyed, it veered backward and sunk back into the ooze.

“Run, Brick!” she yelled. He scrambled across the turtle shell and joined her on the other side. They finished crossing the stones and wound up standing next to Larry.

She tried not to focus on the literally smell of death emanating from Larry.

“Alright, here’s the plan. Grab the flower and _run_.”

“We can’t just grab it,” Brick argued. “That’s a Venus flytrap. It’ll probably snap shut the moment we touch the flower!”

Jo rubbed her chin, thinking. A plan formed in her mind, and a smirk formed on her face. “I’ll be right back.”

Several minutes later, she returned to Brick and Larry, bringing with her a long sharpened stick.

“What’s that gonna do?” Brick asked.

Jo pointed back at the path. “Get back over there and get ready to catch, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

While Brick retreated across the stepping stones, Jo examined the flower. Her javelin proficiency wasn’t quite at the same level as her record-breaking shot put skills, but they’d certainly be enough to do the job here.

After backing up to the far side of Larry’s tiny island, Jo drew her arm back. Her brow furrowed as she stared down her target.

 _Ready, aim, fire_.

Jo hurled the stick at the Chris-a-lis. As she had intended, the makeshift javelin skewered the flower and arced across the stepping stones.

Brick deftly caught the flower. “Target acquired, captain!”

“Yes!” Jo fist pumped. All in a day’s work for—why was the ground moving?

 _Oh crud oh crud oh crud_. Jo leaped back onto the stepping stones just as Larry’s island rose out of the toxic waste, revealing three burly legs. Brick screamed in the distance. Long tendrils swiped at Jo, narrowly missing her as she hopped across the stepping stones. 

“Move out!” She stumbled to Brick’s side. The duo sprinted down the path. Larry lumbered behind them, roaring and howling.

“Chris forgot to tell us his man-eating plant could _walk_!” Jo yelled. 

“Well look on the bright side!” Brick clutched the flower to his chest. “At least we haven’t run into Scott yet!

“Aaaah!”

One moment, Jo was wiping the sweat off her brow. The next, a net scooped Brick off the ground, high into the air. The Chris-a-lis skewer dropped to the ground.

“A _trap_?” Jo couldn't waste time gaping. She dashed over and grabbed the stick off the forest floor.

“I’ll come back for you after we win!” she yelled up to her partner.

“O-okay!” Brick looked absolutely terrified entangled in the hanging net. 

_Win, Jo. Focus_ , she told herself as she dashed in the other direction. _This is for his benefit too. The faster you reach the finish, the faster you can save Brick._

Brick screamed again; Jo stumbled and turned around. Larry’s root-like arm had curled around him and ripped the net off the tree. In one fell swoop, Larry popped Brick into his mouth. And started chewing.

Jo’s pupils shrank to pinpricks.

 _He’ll be fine!_ screamed the voice in her head. _Keep going, Jo, win!_

She tore her eyes away.

Two steps forward. She was practically walking through concrete.

_Never leave a man behind. We’re both making it out of here alive._

She couldn’t. She couldn’t risk his life.

_Great. You picked the perfect time to start having morals._

Gritting her teeth, Jo turned around and charged towards Larry.

Immediately, a body slammed into her, pinning her to the ground.

“Scott!” Jo shrieked, struggling under his weight. “Get _off_ of me!” 

Laughing maniacally, Scott slid the flower off the skewer. Jo grabbed for the Chris-a-lis, but Scott held it out of reach.

“Sorry, Jo!” he hollered sarcastically, jumping up. “But thanks for doin’ all the dirty work for me!”

Scott took off for the finish line. Brick screamed from inside Larry’s mouth. Jo, trapped in between, had nothing but a stick in her hand and a decision to make.

“Aaaaaaaaah!” she screamed, partly in frustration, and partly as a battle cry. 

Jo sprinted towards Larry, stick/javelin/skewer at the ready. She jumped, sinking her hands and feet into his dirt torso. She climbed up his grimy body and shimmied up Larry’s bulky neck.

“Let go of my teammate!” Jo yelled, hit Larry repeatedly with her stick. Larry jerked his neck. The movement tossed Jo into the air like a ragdoll.

She yelled as Larry’s powerful jaws opened up beneath her. Jo slammed into his mouth. Brick’s relieved expression was the last thing she saw before Larry clamped down, shrouding them in darkness.

“Jo! You came back!”

“Do not _talk_ to me!” Jo seethed, feeling around for the net ropes. Jo sliced the ropes across the point of the javelin. 

“Crawl out right now!” she ordered angrily. Brick did so—or at least, she assumed he was. It was too dark to know for certain.

A tooth cut into her shoulder. 

“You stupid plant!” Jo turned around and stabbed the stick into what she surmised was Larry’s gums.

Larry growled and jerked his head, sending Jo tumbling into Brick. A pungent liquid splattered across her face—Larry’s saliva?

“We need to get out of here!” Brick’s voice was loud in her ear.

“No, _really_?” Though it was pitch black, Jo was seeing red. “Kick! Punch! We need Larry to spit us out!”

She pounded her feet against Larry’s teeth. Stabbed his gums. Struck his tongue. All the while, they jostled around as Larry thundered down the path.

Jo was just about to resort to _biting_ Larry when finally, _finally_ , Larry opened his jaws again. While he roared, she thrust the stick above her hair. His jaws closed again but caught on the stick.

She grabbed Brick’s wrist and dragged him out of the slim opening. They tumbled through the air and slammed onto the ground. Her shoulder ached, but there was no time for that.

“Where—?” She sat up immediately. Mere yards ahead of her, Scott sprinted towards the finish line.

Jo scrambled to her feet and charged after him. Chris commentated from the finish line, but his words were lost on Jo.

“Give me back that flower!” Jo yelled, lunging at Scott. 

She missed him by inches and collapsed on the ground. Grinning madly, Scott tossed himself across the finish line.

“And Scott secures himself a place in the finale!” Chris declared, scooping up the flower. He held it to Larry, who thumped past Jo. Chris talked to the plant, but Jo tuned him out. 

At the most critical moment, she’d _lost_.

“Jo!” She looked up right as Brick knelt down beside her. He was covered in dirt, grime, and Larry’s saliva. So was she, probably; that just added injury to insult.

“Are you alright, captain?” he asked.

His concern was too much. It was all too much.

“ _Aaagh_!” she yelled into the dirt.

* * *

When they returned to camp, the first thing Jo did was shower. It had been Chef’s suggestion, since “y’all kids stink to high heaven!” and “maybe a nice, hot shower will take your mind of tryna kill Scott.”

The shower suggestion had also been extended to Brick, but despite the nature of communal washrooms, he had insisted on waiting outside while Jo showered first. Or maybe he was just gonna wash off in the lake like they apparently did at boot camp, Jo wasn’t sure. Whatever Brick was doing right now, for once, Jo was grateful for his chivalry. Now she had the entire bathroom all to herself and she could brood in private.

Chris had spent the entire drive back to camp gloating about how perfectly the challenge had turned out. “Scott intentionally dropping the map and setting traps while Jo and Brick stole the flower for him? _Ingenious_! Still hate the kid for tossing me into the outhouse, but imagine the ratings, Chef!”

In her head, Jo had been listing all the ways she’d murder Scott for his treachery. Brick had done his best to calm her down, and Scott had sat there smirking all the while.

“Ugh!” Jo groaned. She shut off the water and grabbed her towel. 

So she’d be facing Scott in the finale—if she got to the finale at all. For the first time since her arrival on the island, Jo’s confidence was considerably shaken.

 _Maybe I can strike another deal with Scott_? She pulled on a clean t-shirt and sweatpants. _I bet he’d_ love _a lifetime membership at my gym_.

Her hoodie still smelled of mutant saliva and toxic waste, but it was a non-negotiable part of her outfit, so Jo shrugged it on.

Once she was fully dressed, Jo left the washroom, stashed her dirty clothes away in her room, and went to the confessional to vent for a good ten minutes. 

“I wanted to _beat_ Scott in the final three,” she said towards the end of her extensive ramblings, “not lose to him. This is humiliating! And I only lost because I had to go back and save Brick.” Jo blinked. “Brick! I’m gonna _kill_ him for making himself plant food like that!”

Moments later, Jo stormed out of the confessional. As luck would have it, the subject of her ire was walking up the steps of the cabin, a towel draped over his arm and his dark hair mussed. It was a nice look, commented the tiny voice in her head, but Jo ignored it because she had other things to think about.

“Brick!” she marched over to him.

“Hey! Are you feeling any better?”

Jo harrumphed. “Do I look like I’m feeling any better?”

“No, ma’am.”

She flumped down onto the top stair; Brick sat down next to her.

“You really had to go and almost die on me, didn’t you?” she grumbled. “You suck for that. We _lost_ because of that.”

“But you followed the code!” Brick pointed out. “You acted with considerable valor—and I’m not just saying that because I would’ve been toast without you.”

“Ugh!” Jo buried her head in her hands. She hadn’t even stopped to consider that she’d followed his code. “The stupid code! Look what you did! You’ve infected me with _niceness_!”

She went on like that for several more moments, mostly repeating the words “suck,” “stupid,” and “stink” in varying combinations. And then she noticed Brick wasn’t even reacting to her spiel. He sat passively tracing circles on his towel, simply listening.

“Don’t you even _care_?” Jo waved a hand in front of his face. “I must’ve insulted your cadet code like, twenty times!”

“Thirteen actually.” Brick leaned back. “You’re understandably upset. Right now, I figure you just need to get those emotions out. No reaction on my part is required.”

His genuine sympathy only irritated her more. Jo pulled an ‘are you serious’ face. “Earth to Brick! You know you might lose out on a _million_ dollars tonight, right?”

“I do, yes.” He nodded. “But I’m trying to look on the bright side. As I’ve mentioned before, there’s more to Total Drama than the money. Forming friendships, for instance. And I made plenty of those, so even if I go home tonight, I’m still a winner in at least sense of the word.”

Jo was feeling a lot of things right now, and she didn’t know what to do about it except groan loudly. “You are driving me up a wall, you know that?”

“I assure you it’s not intentional.”

She chuckled in spite of herself and her bad mood. “Y’know, I’m gonna miss your semi-formal military talk after the show ends tomorrow.”

Brick frowned. “So soon.”

“And then we’ll never see each other again,” Jo mused absent-mindedly, staring intently at the dirt. _That_ was an unusually sappy sentient. Maybe she’d accidentally ingested some of Larry’s saliva and it was turning her mind to mush.

“Uh, Jo.” Brick flushed. “If you’re not opposed, maybe we could—”

“What have we here?” Scott sauntered up, smirking toothily. “Two maggot-y losers at the mercy of Baron Von Scottmeister.”

Jo was about to berate him for reusing that disgusting nickname, but Brick spoke first.

“Go away, Scott.”

Scott gingerly stepped past them. “Of course. I’m just gonna take a nap before I decide who to vote off. Scotty needs his beauty sleep, heheh.”

“No amount of sleep in the world could fix your abominable lack of morale.” Brick crossed his arms. 

Jo smirked. _You tell ‘im, soldier_.

Scott was not as amused as she. “Looks like someone got up on the wrong side of the mutant flytrap. I’ll keep that in mind when I’m making my decision.”

“Just go inside before I feed you to Fang,” Jo muttered.

Once the door slammed shut behind Scott, Brick turned back to Jo. “What are you gonna spend your million dollars on?”

Her brows rose. “Change the subject much?”

“I figured talking about yourself might lessen your annoyance.”

He had a point.

“Can’t argue with that.” Jo shrugged. “Okay, so my first thought was to open my very own gym.”

“Can you _do_ that? We’re only sixteen.”

“First of all, I turn seventeen at the end of next month. And second of all, I’m not gonna let the law stop me from pursuing my dreams.” Jo waved her hand. “Anyways, the gym was plan one. But also after winning that challenge the other day, I kinda want to buy a zeppelin now. 

“And maybe I'll toss some pity cash Zoey's way so she can go on some sappy vacation with Mike, but only ‘cause I think I put them through a lot. Voting off Mike practically broke Zoey, remember?” Maybe she’d visit Brick, too. Who knows.

He was smiling, nodding along. “All worthwhile investments. I’m sure Zoey and Mike would appreciate the gesture.”

“What about you?” Jo tilted her head. “If Scott takes you to the finale and you destroy that conniving rat, what’ll you spend your million on?”

He glanced at her. “You have to promise you’re not gonna make fun of me.”

“I promise.” She crossed an X across her heart.

“I’m serious, Jo.”

“Jeez, you’re starting to scare me.” She smirked. “What, are you gonna go to clown school?”

“Actually,” Brick answered hesitantly, “I’d use the money to go to fashion school.”

Jo’s mouth dropped open.

“...Jo?” He poked her shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry. Just thought I misheard you. Did you say _fashion_ school?”

“Affirmative.”

Jo couldn’t have mustered a laugh even if she had wanted to. “That’s like, the farthest thing from the military I can think of. Since when did you want to be a fashion designer?”

“As a child, I’d help my mom mend my siblings’ torn clothing. Sewing is a valuable life skill, and I’ve enjoyed working with textiles ever since.”

Her mind wandered to various conversations they’d had over the course of their time on the island. His comments about her hoodie, about Zoey’s commando look. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Obviously I couldn’t care less about fashion”—she gestured to her plain grey outfit—“but good luck.”

“Thanks, Jo! That means a lot.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure thing.” She smiled awkwardly. 

With nothing else to do and no one else to talk to, Jo and Brick spent the majority of the afternoon hanging out, talking about movies, and arm wrestling. Eventually, they both followed Scott’s example and headed inside to take a nap. 

Jo woke up to Chef’s dinner announcement over the loudspeaker. During their meal, Brick’s boot camp stories were enough to get her laughing and take her mind off the fact that soon, one of them would be leaving the island. And she was hoping it wasn’t her.

After dinner, Chris ushered everyone to the dock. Jo kept a confident smirk plastered across her face. Fake it ‘til you make it and all that jazz.

“Elimination time!” Chris said for the cameras’ benefit. “Scott, by sacrificing your fellow contestants to get eaten by Larry”—Scott smirked proudly—“you’ve secured a place in the finale! _And_ , you get to choose your opponent in said finale!”

“I’m just glad to see all my strategizing paid off.” Scott tapped his noggin. Jo scoffed.

“Who will get the Hurl of Shame?” Chris asked the camera. “Will it be Brick, the klutzy cadet who’s afraid of the dark?” Brick pursed his lips at his description.

“Or will it be Jo, the athletic powerhouse with a barbed-wire tongue?”

Jo couldn’t even appreciate Chris’s description of her; she was too focused on Scott, who was staring down both her and Brick.

“Alrighty, I spent a while comparing your skillets,” Scott said, pacing. “Jo is athletic, sure, but she lacks the charisma, intelligence, or resourcefulness that Brick has. Plus, my Pappy’s ex-military, so I know how formidable the troops can be.”

First of all, she was definitely intelligent and resourceful. Second of all, what was going on right now? Her pulse raced. If Scott was saying what she thought he was saying—

“Based on those conclusions, I have to eliminate my biggest threat,” Scott said.

Chris checked his watch. “Can you hurry it up there, buddy?”

“Of course, Chris.” Scott smiled. 

“That’s why I’m going to hurl Jo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY I have been so excited to release this chapter! I don't know if this twist shocked anyone the way I intended it to (let me know if it did, I'm curious to see if y'all got blindsided!), but I have a ton of stuff to talk about.
> 
> I love Jo to death, but from the very inception of this timeline, I planned to have her place third. Why? One reason was that I felt having her make the finale would be... contrived, in a sense. Just because a story is told from a specific character's perspective doesn't give them a free pass to go all the way.  
> Also, since it was Brick who ultimately changed the continuity (by deciding not to volunteer for elimination), I think it's fitting that he earned a spot in the finale; the juxtaposition highlights that he really screwed himself over in canon.  
> The final, most important reason for Jo's bronze placement will be explained in the next chapter. :)  
> There's also, a fourth, secret reason (guess if you'd like, heheh).
> 
> Anyways, the original post-merge elimination order was Lightning, Scott, Mike, Jo, Brick/Zoey finale. Brick was supposed to vote Scott out with Zoey and Mike after the zeppelin challenge. Ultimately, as I wrote I realized eliminating Scott so early would get rid of a LOT of tension within the story, so I swapped the order around to its current iteration: Lightning, Mike, Zoey, Jo, Brick/Scott finale. You could also consider this new order a callback to canon ROTI, which also had a boy/boy finale.
> 
> Elimination order: Staci, Dakota, B, Anne Maria, Dawn, Sam, Cameron, Lightning, Mike, Zoey, Jo  
> Finalists: Brick and Scott


	16. Chick Flung, Chick Flick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Playa Des Losers, Jo reunites with the other ten eliminated contestants. The girls watch a movie together; Dawn makes insightful comments.

“ _What_?” Jo and Brick yelled simealtaneously.

“What happened to all that nice stuff you were just saying about Brick?” Jo demanded, balling up her fists. “The charisma and intelligence junk?”

Scott cackled. “Yeah, I just said that to catch you off guard. Worked like a charm.”

“But Jo deserves the finale more than I do!” Brick protested. “She’s grown so much as a leader!” 

“What he said! That’s my money you’re stealing!” Jo cried. 

The smirk on Scott’s face morphed into a scowl.

“Why the heck would I bring _you_ to the finale? Among other things, you’ve punched me in the _face_ , shoved me into the _lake_ , and thrown pepper into my _eyeballs_!” 

“Yeah, well, I don’t regret it,” Jo spat. She was ready to argue all night, but Chef picked her up and dumped her unceremoniously in the catapult.

“Brick!” Jo scrambled upright and made eye contact with him. She probably had mere seconds before Chris threw her into space, so she spoke quickly. “You better beat up Freckle Face over there, or so help me I will—”

Chris pulled the lever.

“Aaah!” Jo screamed. Her stomach plummeted as she hurled through the sky at a bajillion miles per hour. 

After the shock of the initial launch, flying through the air wasn’t _so_ bad. Jo’s main concern focused on what came _after_ the flight.

 _Please please please please please have a net waiting for me_ . Her brain must’ve been in shock or something, because her second thought was _Wait, wasn’t there a World Tour song about that_?

As Jo struggled to remember the lyrics to ‘Before We Die,’ if not just to distract herself from her impending doom, she slammed into something elastic and bounced several times before coming to rest on the world’s largest trampoline.

“Yes!” she cheered, throwing her arms above her head. “I’m not dead! Woo hoo!”

Then she remembered that the only reason she had been _in_ a life-threatening situation was that Scott had voted her off. No more million dollars.

Jo’s mood soured instantly.

She crawled to the edge of the trampoline and slid onto the ground. Palm trees—imported or fake, Jo wasn’t sure—lined the clearing. A lantern-lit path led west through the trees. With no other option, Jo followed it.

Maybe if she’d been racing Brick, or even Lightning, Jo would’ve sprinted. But since she wasn’t, and therefore had no reason to hurry, Jo trudged along, muttering bitterly about Scott’s underhandedness all the while. Despite watching him toy with nearly everyone else on the show, Jo’d assumed she had what it took to best him.

She just hadn’t accounted for Brick getting caught in the jaws of a Venus flytrap.

The trees thinned and the dirt on the trail morphed into sand. By the time the path ended and Jo passed the final lantern, she stood on a beach. Playa Des Losers loomed above her.

“Huh. Doesn’t look so bad.” She had expected a waste-filled dump, like the rest of Wawanakwa had been, but the losers’ abode appeared surprisingly normal. Well, as normal as a three-story mansion could appear.

Jo bounded up the front steps and took notice of a note taped on the door. “Newly hurled? Knock three times.”

Begrudgingly, Jo raised her fist to comply. Before she could knock, the door swung open.

Three familiar faces appeared in the doorway.

“Jo!” Dawn clapped in delight.

“Jo!” Zoey bemoaned at the same moment.

“It’s just Jo!” Anne Maria called over her shoulder. Several annoyed groans answered back.

Jo blinked. What exactly was she supposed to say? Various reactions vied for dominance—happiness at seeing Dawn and Zoey again, bitterness at being eliminated, curiosity about the Playa. 

She settled on folding her arms cooly. “Long time no see, guys.”

“What happened?” Zoey pulled Jo inside. “You said you were gonna take out Scott!”

Jo wrinkled her nose. “Things didn’t go _quite_ according to plan.” 

Standing behind Dawn, Cameron adjusted his glasses. “Well, what _was_ your plan?” he asked, ready to dissect it.

“Y’know, my great-great-uncle Julian invented plans…”

Jo looked around the room, momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer number of faces. Staci, Dakota, B, Anne Maria, Dawn, Sam, Cameron, Lightning, Mike, and Zoey all focused directly on her. They wanted answers. Jo ran a hand through her hair. Normally, excessive attention wouldn’t phase her, but, well, it had been a rough night.

“You don’t need to tell us all at once if you don’t want to,” Dawn said politely. “The story always gets out eventually.”

“No no, it’s fine.” She recounted the day’s challenge—running through the Mutant Forest of Terror, finding Larry, Scott’s trickery, getting _eaten_ by Larry, sacrificing the win to save Brick, and Scott eliminating her.

Cameron shuddered. “I’m so glad I didn’t have to face off against a _Dionaea muscipula_. I’m probably allergic to its pollen!”

“Sha-please, little man, Lightning could’ve taken it down with ease!” Lightning flexed. Jo rolled her eyes.

Zoey clenched her fists. “Ugh! Scott angers me _so_ much! I can’t believe he got away with that!”

“How do you think _I_ feel?” Jo tapped her foot.

Now that the story had been told, the crowd dispersed across the Playa to resume their various nighttime activities. Mike kissed Zoey’s cheek and headed upstairs, but Zoey herself stayed with Jo, as did Dawn.

“Do you want to vent about it?” Zoey asked.

“I kinda yelled to Brick a lot already, but sure, I’ll take any extra opportunity to trash talk Scott.”

Dawn smiled placidly. “Let’s head to the kitchen,” she suggested. “I suspect you’re hungry, and I was in the middle of brewing green tea before you arrived.”

“Lead the way.” Jo shrugged.

She followed Zoey and Dawn down the pristine corridors.

“So how’s Brick doing?” Zoey asked.

“Chipper as usual. He didn’t break a sweat when it became obvious that either he or I was getting kicked off. It was kinda cheesy.”

Zoey smiled. “Did he, y’know, tell you anything important?”

Jo considered this for a moment. “He told me he wants to go to fashion school.”

“...Oh.” The smile disappeared off Zoey’s face. Dawn raised a brow. 

“Why’re you asking, Flower Power?”

“No reason. Just curious.” Zoey’s gaze slid from Jo to the paintings that adorned the Playa’s halls. If Jo had to guess, this was probably tied to sappy feelings junk. And since she didn’t want to hear any sappy feelings junk, Jo dropped the subject entirely.

Despite the fact the Playa’s exclusive inhabitants were dirty, rowdy teens, the marble kitchen countertops were immaculate; no mess in sight. Jo hopped onto the island countertop in the center of the room while Dawn made a beeline for the tea kettle that sat on the rightmost of three industrial stovetops. She walked past a stainless steel refrigerator. The opened fridge doors were so large that they obscured Dakota’s upper half; Jo only recognized her by her hot pink jeans. 

“Hi, Dakota,” Zoey said, leaning against the island countertop beside Jo.

“Hey everyone!” she squeaked, extracting a tub of nonfat pistachio ice cream from the freezer. Her green eyes locked in on Jo. “Oh gosh, it must suck to be eliminated right before the finale. You don’t even get to fully enjoy the resort like the rest of us do!”

“Yeah, that’s obviously what I’m most upset about,” Jo answered dryly. Jeez, way to rub it in. Then she registered Dakota’s appearance: clipped green hair, normal-looking face. Something didn’t line up. 

"Wait, I thought you turned into a rampaging mutant at Sam's elimination," Jo said. "At least, that's what Bubble Boy made it sound like."

Dakota scratched her neck. "Okay, that happened. But once Sam and I got back to the Playa, Daddy's doctors flew in and reversed the effects of the toxic waste!"

A benign smile lit up Dawn's face as she placed a cup of tea in Jo’s hands. "They said if Dakota had waited a single day longer, the effects would've been irreversible. Curious, isn't it?"

“I guess?” Jo sipped the tea. _Much_ better than anything she’d eaten in the past week. 

“Anyways, now I’m all back to normal! Except for the green hair”—Dakota ran a hand through the spiky style—“but I kinda dig it now! And so does Sam.”

The ice cream tub in hand, she flounced off, probably to find her boyfriend.

“Talk about an odd couple,” Zoey remarked.

“You’re one to talk,” Jo said. “I assumed you’d be spending all your waking hours with Pointy.”

“Earlier I told Mike that in the off-chance you got eliminated, I’d be hanging out with you. Girls before guys!” She elbowed Jo.

“Well I _am_ objectively better than Mike in every aspect,” Jo conceded, moving Zoey's elbow away. “Good choice if I ever heard one.”

Dawn passed a cup of tea to Zoey. “Do you girls want to go drink on the patio? It’s a lovely night.”

Zoey nodded. “Great idea, Dawn.”

Jo sipped her tea. “I’m good with whatever.”

A few minutes later, the trio sat out on the patio, drinking tea and looking out at the water. Camp Wawanakwa sat on the horizon, and stars hung brightly in the sky.

“How are you feeling, Jo?” Dawn asked. 

“You tell me, Aura Whisperer.”

“Your anger has dwindled to mere annoyance, I think,” Dawn noted. “Which is good!” 

Jo supposed there was some truth to Dawn’s assessment. She didn’t feel particularly inclined to punching Scott’s lights out anymore.

“That’s the magic of green tea,” Dawn continued. “It works wonders for soothing anger.”

Zoey and Dawn struck up a conversation about different tea types. Jo sat and listened, feeling distinctly out of place, partially because she wasn’t a regular tea-drinker, and partially because she was still somewhat unsettled.

 _I should still be in the game. I should still be a finalist_.

Jo kept glancing over at Wawanakwa in the distance. Not even an hour ago had she been traipsing around the island, and now she’d been relegated to ex-contestant. 

How Brick was doing without her? Hopefully, he was mapping out potential battle strategies for tomorrow’s finale. Or maybe he was sulking, which would be understandable, considering he had just lost his strongest ally.

He was missing some darn good tea, though.

“By the way,” Dawn commented, drawing Jo out of her thoughts, “B expresses his condolences about losing to Scott.”

“Huh?” Jo craned her neck. She hadn’t even noticed B was outside with them; he sat at another table, quietly working on some sort of gadget. B waved at Jo, gave her a double-thumbs down, saluted her, and resumed his tinkering.

“Did Scott cause his elimination too?” Jo asked. While in the competition, she hadn’t interacted with B at all, so she had no idea what had gone down between him and the Rats.

Dawn dipped her head in confirmation. “It pains me to admit Sam and I voted for B at Scott’s insistence. Scott is well-versed in persuasion.”

“Dang, Scott had you guys under his thumb,” Jo commented.

Zoey raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “The same could be said of you, Jo.”

“Keeping Scott around was part of a strategy that _backfired_ ,” Jo snapped. “I was never under his thumb!”

“That’s what they all say,” Zoey said evenly.

When everyone’s cups were drained a half-hour later, they headed back inside. Dawn and Zoey took Jo a tour of the Playa’s first floor.

They peeked into one of the many, many recreation rooms. Staci and Cameron sat on a plush purple couch; Staci gabbed on and on while Cameron scribbled furiously on a notepad. Also, Staci was bald.

 _When did_ that _happen_?

“Hello, Cameron.” Dawn waved, prompting Cameron to take notice of the onlookers.

“Whatcha up to, Cam?” Zoey asked.

“Just working on my psychological profile of Staci,” Cameron said, waving his notebook in the air. “She happens to be one of the most fascinating people I’ve ever met!”

“She probably lies more than Scott does,” Jo remarked, chuckling at Scott’s expense.

Staci overheard and surprisingly didn’t take offense. “Did you know the first person to lie was actually my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather Adam? Before him people told the truth, ya!” 

Cameron tapped his notebook. “But two days ago you said that your great-aunt Mildred actually told the first lie.”

“Huh?” Staci’s mouth puckered into an ‘O’. “I guess it runs in the family, then. Haha!”

“Alright, can we find someplace _quieter_?” Jo quipped. “I think my head’s starting to spin.”

Zoey directed them across the hall to the arcade room. In one corner, Sam and Dakota shared a bowl of pistachio ice cream while the former taught his new girlfriend how to play an RPG. On the opposite side of the room, Lightning was playing foosball. Against himself.

“Lightning scores!” He cheered after kicking the tiny soccer ball into one of the goals. “Score is 5-0, Lightning style!”

“Way to go, Lightning!” Jo walked over, golf clapping sarcastically. “You’re playing a tough match.”

Lightning straightened up and nodded at her. “What’s good, Jo?”

“Been better, obviously.” Jo shrugged. “What’s up with you?”

“Just unwinding after an epic steak dinner!” He scratched his head. “Also, Lightning’s been thinking. Are you _sure_ you’re a girl?”

 _Here we go again_ , Jo thought. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“But Lightning has _never_ been wrong like that!”

“You've literally called Cameron a little girl on multiple occasions.”

“Sha-when?”

“Dude, get some brain cells. _Please_ get some brain cells.”

“Lightning’s got _plenty_ of brain cells. How do you think he comes up with his amazing foosball strategies?” Lightning jiggled one of the foosball handles. 

“Can you believe this…” Jo glanced to the right and faltered. Usually Brick was around to experience Lightning’s antics with her.

“Believe what?” Lightning asked, completely oblivious to her distraction.

“Nevermind.” Jo shook her head to snap herself out of it.

“Wanna play a match?” Jo waved Zoey and Dawn over. “You and me against Flower Power and Pasty?”

“Bring it on! Team Dude reunion!” Lightning pumped his fist in the air. “Or, uh, Team Dude Plus One Girl.”

 _He’s trying, at least_. She sighed.

As expected, Team Dude Plus One Girl dominated foosball, but that wasn’t to say Dawn and Zoey helplessly lost. They put up a good fight, and by the time the game ended, the scores differed by only two points. 

“Heck yeah, Lightning wins again!” He raised a hand, and Jo high-fived him. “Rematch, right now!”

“Eh, I’m not in the mood,” Zoey said. “We have to show Jo the rest of the resort.”

“Aw, lame!” Lightning whined.

They resumed the tour. Every hall and doorways looked virtually the same, the only difference being the rooms to which they led. Dawn pointed out the library, the auxiliary library, and the laundry room.

“Hey, that reminds me,” Jo said, looking at the rows of washing machines. “When do I get my stuff back?”

“Sometime tomorrow morning, most likely,” Zoey answered. “I only got my bags back after breakfast today.”

“Although since the finale is tomorrow, they might bring your stuff back earlier,” Dawn theorized.

Jo made a face. “Knowing Chris, he’ll just mail me half my clothes three weeks after I return home.”

“Better half than none at all,” Zoey said as Mike came into view at the end of the hall. He bumbled towards the girls, carrying a load of dirty clothes in his lanky arms.

“Comin’ through!” he declared, slipping past them and into the laundry room.

“Mike!” Zoey smiled broadly and followed him inside. “Doin’ laundry before we leave tomorrow?”

“That’s the plan.” Mike tossed his pile into the nearest washing machine and turned it on.

“You couldn’t just wait a day until you’re back at your own house?” Jo asked sardonically. 

Mike glared at her. “I figured I’d take advantage of Chris’ washing machines while I have the chance. Might swipe a carton of detergent, too. He bought the good stuff.”

Zoey giggled. “Aw, Mike, you’re hilarious.”

“Stealing detergent from a loaded reality TV host? Gee, you’ve really gone down the wrong path, Hedgehog Hair.”

“I’ve done worse,” Mike said sarcastically. Or at least, Jo assumed he was being sarcastic. Mike didn’t strike her as the hardened criminal type.

He cleared his throat. “Actually, I also came down here because I have a message from Anne Maria.”

The smile faded from Zoey’s face. “You were talking to Anne Maria?”

Mike scratched his sideburns. “Well, she barged into my room and demanded I tell you guys ‘cause she didn’t feel like walking downstairs herself.”

Jo glanced at Zoey; judging by the annoyed expression on her face, the answer failed to placate her.

“What did Anne Maria want to tell us?” Dawn asked before Zoey could push the topic further.

“She said to meet in her room in a half-hour after Jo gets settled in.” Mike fidgeted. “I’m also supposed to tell Dakota and Staci.”

“Let me come with you,” Zoey offered. She glanced at Dawn and Jo. “I’ll meet you guys at _Anne Maria’s_ room in thirty minutes?”

“Whatever,” Jo said.

“See you then.” Dawn waved farewell, and the party split up.

“So do we each get individual rooms?” Jo asked as they walked.

“Mmmhmm.” Dawn nodded, steering them to a stairwell. “Everyone sleeps in the girls’ wing.”

“Even the guys?”

“Yep. The Playa was built with enough rooms for the original twenty-two contestants, eleven rooms per wing. But since there’s only thirteen of us, minus Brick and Scott, we can all fit into one wing.”

“Makes sense, I guess.” They reached the top of the stairwell, and Dawn turned left. Jo followed.

“Speaking of Brick,” Dawn added, “you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with him recently.”

“Uh, yeah, because we made an alliance?” Jo bristled. “Zoey must’ve told you that.”

“She mentioned it, but that’s not what I was talking about. Look right there.” Dawn stopped walking and pointed, but since Jo couldn’t see auras, Dawn was pretty much pointing at nothing. “Your auras bled together a bit.”

“Good to know.” Jo chewed the inside of her cheek. She liked Dawn alright, but the conversation was veering into ‘way-too-personal’ territory.

Dawn smiled. “Were you guys holding hands?”

“ _What_?” Jo sputtered. She crossed and uncrossed her arms. “I mean, yeah, I guess technically. But only because if I let go, one of us would’ve gotten killed falling into a biohazardous sinkhole!”

Dawn clicked her tongue. “You’ve become much more trusting.”

“ _Huh_?”

“You’ve just admitted you trusted him with your life. And even if you hadn't explicitly stated it, your aura is very telling.”

“What did I say about psychoanalyzing me?” Jo narrowed her eyes. She’d been duped; Dawn was as weasley as Scott.

“My bad,” Dawn apologized, but Jo wasn’t sure she meant it.

Dawn resumed her stroll down the hall. “One final thought: between you and me, I’m glad you placed third.”

Jo ran to catch up with her. “Wanna run that by me again, Pixie Stick?” More venom seeped into her voice than she had intended.

“If you _had_ won today’s challenge and advanced to the finals, it would necessarily mean you left Brick in the clutches of that mutant flytrap.” Dawn turned a corner to the west wing. Eleven doors lined the hallway: six on the left, five on the right.

“But you placed your friendship above the money, possibly saving Brick’s life, and you got eliminated as a result. You’ve grown more than you ever would have if you had won the money.”

“All I’m hearing is that I got _soft_.”

“If you had to redo that decision, would you do it differently?” Dawn asked. Before Jo could respond, she added, “You don’t have to answer that right away. It’s just something to ponder.”

“And you know how much I _love_ pondering,” Jo said sarcastically. They arrived in front of the sixth door on the left, the very last one in the corridor.

“Here’s your room, by the way.” Dawn opened the door for Jo. “I’m going to change into my pajamas. Anne Maria’s room is the third on this side.”

Jo jiggled the door handle. “Hey, why does this automatically open? Don’t I need a key—” She turned to Dawn, but Dawn had disappeared.

“Okay then,” Jo muttered. Typical Dawn, telling her all the stuff she didn’t need to hear and then vanishing before Jo killed her for it.

After entering her room, she begrudgingly admitted Dakota was right; it _was_ a shame she didn’t have more time to enjoy the Playa’s niceties. On the right side of the room, shimmery gold bed sheets tucked neatly into the queen-size bed frame; the gold color had no-doubt been chosen to complement the buttercream yellow walls.

Jo hurled herself onto the bed like an excited five-year-old. This was the type of place she could’ve afforded if she had won the prize money.

“I am _definitely_ smuggling some of these back home.” Jo tossed a plush pillow into the air. It fell straight back onto her face and didn’t hurt in the slightest. Funny how Chris provided absolutely no comfort on the show while sparing no expense for the losers’ suites.

Jo sat up and looked around as she tossed her shoes onto the ground. Opposite the bed was a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. In the corner sat a minifridge Jo didn’t bother opening, just in case Chris had boobytrapped it. Above the fridge, graffitied on the wall in black sharpie, were the words “Chris McLean sux. -G.”

“Too true,” Jo chuckled. Apparently she was staying in Gothball’s old room, and also evident was the fact that the cleaning services despised Chris as much as the castmates did. How else would the defacement remain intact over two years after Gwen’s departure?

But anyways, it was getting late, and Jo was keenly aware she didn’t have pajamas to change into. And as much as she loved her hoodie, it wasn’t the best for sleeping in, especially since it still smelled.

On a hunch, Jo checked the closet. The space was empty save for a single white shirt dangling from a hanger.

 _Bingo_. Jo pulled the t-shirt out. She noticed too late the slogan emblazoned across the front.

In chunky red letters, the shirt proclaimed to the world, “I SURVIVED TOTAL DRAMA: REVENGE OF THE ISLAND.” At the very bottom, Chris McLean had scrawled his signature in permanent marker.

“I spent eleven days on a mutated island festering with toxic waste and all they can think to get me is a _t-shirt_?” Jo gritted her teeth. “Lousy Chris!”

However, seeing as she had nothing else in the way of pajamas, Jo shed her hoodie and her pride and put the shirt on.

For once, Jo had nothing to unpack after switching to a new room. And since she had nothing better to do, she went over to Anne Maria’s, even if technically she’d be kinda early. Tan-in-a-can could suck it up and deal with her.

Jo knocked once.

“Come in!” came Anne Maria’s voice, muffled through the door. Jo threw open the door and sauntered inside. Anne Maria’s room was identical to hers, except it was much more lived-in. Hairspray bottles and candy packets littered the floor.

“Dang, girl, what happened?” Anne Maria sat on her bed; with one hand, she sprayed her poof, and with the other, she attempted to smooth out her mussed sheets. “I had my money on you winnin’ the whole shebang.”

“What? Really?” Into Jo’s mind popped the time she’d thrown out Anne Maria’s hairspray during the ice fortress challenge; her plan had worked like a charm, but following that incident, she hadn’t expected any support from her ex-teammate. 

“Sure.” Anne Maria shrugged. “I love Brick an’ all, but I was rootin’ for a girl to win the money, or at least get to the finale. Represent! Female empowerment! Booyah!” She pumped a fist in the air.

Jo hadn’t been trying to represent the whole female species by winning, but whatever. While she tried to come up with a response, Anne Maria chucked her empty hairspray can against the wall.

“Ay, can you pass me a hairspray? I just ran out.” She pointed to the glitzy fuchsia duffel bag lying near Jo’s feet. Several unopened cans peeked out.

“I don’t understand why you use this junk, Poofhead.” Jo wrinkled her nose. “It’s frickin’ gross.” She tossed a can in Anne Maria’s direction.

“Watch yo mouth!” Anne Maria warned. She caught the can in her hand and gingerly shucked off the cap’s plastic peel. “I was already hesitant about inviting Staci to this lil’ shindig; don’t make me regret inviting you, too.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. What exactly is this ‘shindig’”—Jo air quoted—“that I’m attending in your room?”

“A movie night. _Duh_!” Anne Maria slid off her bed, rummaged through the minifridge in the corner of the room, and produced an assortment of sodas and candies. 

“And you invited me?” Jo was absolutely lost. “And _Zoey_? Weren’t you guys fighting over Mike when you got booted off the island?”

“Gimme some credit, Blondie.” Anne Maria rolled her eyes. “I’m the first to admit that I don’t exactly see eye to eye with you. And sure, Staci’s rantin’ gets on my nerves. And maybe Dakota and Dawn can be kinda oblivious. And do not get me _started_ on Red.

“ _But_ ,” she added, “we’re all gals, _and_ we’re all suckas on this crazy show, _and_ I am a firm believer that despite our differences, the six of us can sit down and enjoy a movie together.”

Jo opened her mouth to tell Anne Maria she was _delusional_ when—

“Wonderful speech, Anne Maria. What movie are we watching?”

“Ah!” Jo flinched; Dawn, who had traded her green sweater for lavender pajamas, appeared beside her with no warning. “How did _you_ get in here?”

“You left the door open,” Dawn said. For once, there was a plausible explanation for her sudden comings and goings. Jo went to close the door, but Dakota strolled in before she could do so.

“Hey guys!” She had changed into a shirt identical to Jo’s, and took notice of that fact immediately. “Ooh, twinsies!” she squealed, pointing.

“Be right back, gotta go change,” Jo said sarcastically, but she made no move to actually leave.

“Y’know, two weeks ago I would not have been caught _dead_ in this discount fabric, but now it’s starting to grow on me.” Dakota tugged on the hem of the t-shirt. In her other hand, she held up a familiar tub. “Anyways, I brought the last of the pistachio ice cream!”

“Good for you, doll.” Anne Maria nodded her approval. “That’ll go _perfectly_ with the pretzel rods.”

“Hey, everyone.” Zoey, clad in pink and purple, appeared in the doorway.

“Glad you could make it to our movie night, Red.” Anne Maria waved amicably. “Didja see Staci on your way up?”

“Mike and I told her to meet us up here. I’m not where she is right now—”

“—and then my third-cousin Malia developed vaccines, ya?” Staci’s voice preceded her entrance. Everyone flinched at the incessant monologue, even good-natured Dawn. “Before then, people just succumbed to illness. So sad.”

“Who is she even _talking_ to?” Jo asked nobody.

Mrs. Chatterton, still wearing her pink parka, appeared in the doorway. Pencilneck flanked her, scribbling all the while.

“Thanks for listening, Cameron!” she squealed, throwing her arms around him. “I’ll talk to you some more tomorrow, ya?”

“Of course!” Cameron gasped. When Staci released him, he scampered down the hallway, probably to read some nerdy books in the peace and quiet of his own room.

“Hey, guys! What are we up to? Hanging out?” Staci closed the door behind herself.

Anne Maria repeated her ‘let’s watch a movie’ plan for the benefit of the whole group.

“And Staci, girl,” she added, “for the love of all things beautiful, aka _me_ , do not talk during the movie. Do not say a single thing about your family inventing motion pictures or whateva.” 

“What do you have against Great Uncle Yuri?” Staci frowned. 

“Doll, my homegirls and I are tryna enjoy a movie.” Anne Maria fixed her with a pointed glare.

Staci huffed. “Fine, I won’t say anything. But only because Great Great Aunt Darion invented silent movies. It’s out of respect for her, ya.”

Dawn placed a hand on Staci’s shoulder. “That is greatly appreciated, friend.”

 _How did these people put up with Staci this whole time_? Jo wondered. She’d had to deal with Scott’s bull for equally as long, but at least he made himself scarce and wouldn’t talk your ear off.

Zoey cleared her throat, drawing the room’s attention. “Okay, so what movie are we watching? Hopefully, you’ve picked something with _substance_.”

It was a jibe at Anne Maria; even Jo could see that. Their hostess appeared nonplussed.

“Well I actually ain’t the one pickin’, toots. That honor goes to Blondie here.” She gestured at Jo. “Since you’re the most recent arrival an’ all.”

“How generous,” Zoey said dryly.

Jo smiled. “Oh man, I get to pick _anything_?”

“Anything,” Anne Maria confirmed with a grin. “So whatsit gonna be, huh?”

Her first impulse was to recommend an action movie, one of her favorites. 

But if Staci decided to open her mouth during the movie, which seemed likely despite her promise to the opposite, it’d be ruined forever in Jo’s eyes, and that would just be a travesty. 

“Let’s watch _P*A*S*H_ ,” Jo suggested, following her second impulse.

“Wuzzat?” Anne Maria asked, spraying her hair. “A documentary on mashed potatoes or somethin’?”

Dawn was smirking. Ugh, of _course_ she knew the significance of the movie in question. Jo was gonna die.

“It’s a war movie,” she admitted. “I’ve never seen it, but according to my sources, it’s pretty good.”

In truth, Brick had recommended it to her earlier in the day. She was curious as to what type of movie had earned such a glowing review from him. 

“Alright, _P*A*S*H_ it is!” Anne Maria declared. “Gather round, girls.”

Dawn and Dakota sat in the front of the bed. Staci and Zoey squeezed in the middle, and Jo sat beside Anne Maria at the back. She wrapped her arms around her legs in an attempt to take up as little room as possible. No way would she ever admit to feeling so grossly out of her element, but this—sleepover? hangout?—wasn’t really her scene.

“Ay, Zoey, start passin’ chips around.” Anne Maria clicked through the various streaming services offered by the TV, looking for the movie. “I want some Cheetos _pronto_.”

Zoey sighed loudly. “If you insist.”

She distributed the various snacks to Dawn, Dakota, Staci, and Anne Maria.

“Do you want anything, Jo?” Zoey twisted around to face her, a pretzel bag in one hand and a potato chip bag in the other.

“Got any trail mix?”

“Nope. Anne Maria didn’t think to get any.”

“Ay, I’ll make sure Chef stocks some mix next season,” Anne Maria snapped sarcastically.

Jo rolled her eyes. “I’ll take the pretzels.”

Zoey handed her the pretzel bag. If someone had told Jo just a week ago that she’d be sharing snacks with a bunch of girly-girls, she would’ve knocked them upside the head. But after a few pretzels, she relaxed. This hangout wasn’t anything spectacular, but Jo didn’t want to kill anyone like she had anticipated.

“Found it!” Anne Maria announced. “Alright, everybody shut up and hope this movie is good.”

 _Don’t let me down now, Brick_ , Jo thought while Dakota ran to turn off the lights. Anne Maria pounded the play button, and the movie began.

* * *

Brick had been wrong. _P*A*S*H_ sucked. Jo was gonna throttle him for making her watch such a ridiculous movie. The style of humor did not match the Brick she knew and—talked to. No, seriously. What the heck. 

“Alright, show of hands.” Anne Maria turned off the TV. “Who liked it?”

Only Staci and Dawn raised their hands. Staci, who had miraculously stayed silent for the entire film, presently launched into an ear-bleeding tangent about how her relatives started the Korean War.

“Well thanks for wasting two hours of my life, Jo.” Anne Maria tossed a Cheeto at Jo’s head.

“Do not blame me for this!” Jo batted the Cheeto away. “Blame _yourself_ for letting me pick the movie.”

“It wasn’t _all_ bad,” Dawn interjected. “It gave a very insightful commentary on modern warfare.”

“How can you call that _modern_?” Dakota tilted her head. “That movie was older than Daddy!”

“Dakota, do you even know what modern means?” Zoey asked. 

A harsh knock on the door froze all bickering. Chef barged in, looking none too happy. “All y’all better get to bed _immediately_!” he grumbled.

“But it’s not even ten!” Dakota whined.

“Yeah! I’ve been stayin’ up ‘till two all week!” Anne Maria added. "I'm livin' the dream!"

“Get out of here, creep,” Jo added, none too happy to see Chef again so soon.

“Newsflash, dorkettes! You’ve got an early wakeup tomorrow! Better be up by eight, ‘cause we’re leaving the resort at nine!”

The other five girls groaned, Dang, _eight_ was considered an early wakeup here? Jo couldn’t relate.

Chef’s gaze landed on her. “You! Bronze medalist! I got your luggage.”

“Gee, thanks.” Jo suppressed a shudder. _Chef is one handling my stuff? Gross_.

Chef shepherded everyone except Anne Maria into the hallway. Staci and Dakota went right; Zoey, Dawn, and Jo turned left.

“Do you think I could sneak downstairs and get some glitter glue?” Zoey pondered. “They’ve gotta have some somewhere in this big house.”

Jo stuck her tongue out in disgust. “Why would you want glitter glue?”

“I want to make a poster for Brick,” Zoey said.

“What a thoughtful idea, Zoey,” Dawn answered. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” She paused in front of the door to her room. “Goodnight, girls. I trust we’ll all be in good spirits tomorrow.” She disappeared into her quarters, the door fluttering closed behind her. 

The remaining two girls continued down the corridor. “When I first met Dawn, I thought she was kinda weird.”

“She _is_ weird,” Jo said.

“Yeah,” Zoey agreed. “The good kind of weird, though. So, do you wanna help me make my posters?”

“Pass.” Jo rolled her eyes. “The only thing I’m giving Brick is advice on how to pummel Scott. For all his army talk, I don’t think he’s ever thrown a punch.”

“You should’ve seen him during the ice challenge,” Zoey answered, stopping by her doorway. “He got into a real tussle with Scott and Vito.”

“Sorry I missed it. I was preoccupied with stopping our fort from melting to the ground.” 

Her companion shrugged. “Give it a few months. You’ll probably see it when the episode airs on TV.”

“I’ll mark my calendar,” Jo said sarcastically. She threw up a farewell salute to Zoey and returned to her own room. After checking her duffel bag to make sure Chef hadn’t misplaced anything—he hadn’t, thank goodness—Jo settled underneath the lavish comforter and sheets.

In the ideal timeline, she wouldn’t be sleeping in such a gorgeous bedroom right now. She’d be buried underneath itchy, unwashed sheets, tracing the wooden grooves of the rickety bunk above her. And most importantly, she’d still be in the running for a million dollars.

But maybe this sequence of events wasn’t too sucktacular. Jo tucked a hand under one of the velvet throw pillows. Brick had yammered on and on and on about the importance of camaraderie. At the end of the night, maybe she could see the merit of his philosophy. Dawn, Zoey, Brick himself—three people she could talk to without the sarcasm dialed up to 11. Who would’ve thought?

 _Of course, I’m never gonna tell him he’s right_ , she thought as she fell asleep. _I’d never hear the end of it_.

And to answer Dawn's question—no, if she had to redo her decision, she wouldn't change a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, my favorite part of this chapter is Dawn explaining how Dakota's mutation was reversed; I love me a little dramatic irony, and I've had that exchange planned for a while now. Dawn also elaborates on why I decided to let Jo have third place. Inc conclusion: Dawn CEO of explaining things.  
> Also fun fact: while I write/edit this story, I often put on M*A*S*H and watch it in the background (thanks, Brick).  
> Four more chapters to go, woo hoo!


	17. The Morning Rush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the morning of the finale, the campers leave Playa Des Losers.

Ten minutes after Chef screamed “Up and at ‘em, you pathetic wastes of space!” loud enough to wake the entire province of Ontario, Jo dragged her luggage down to the Playa lobby. The upside to being the most recent boot: she hadn’t bothered unpacking her stuff and was therefore ready at a moment’s notice. 

While Jo waited for the rest of her castmates to join her, she cracked her back. The stretching did nothing to alleviate the fuzzies tumbling in her stomach. 

“Where _is_ everybody?” Jo huffed and resorted to tapping her foot. Surely one of the guys was done packing by now. Boys would pack one shirt and one sock and call it a night.

As if on cue, a gold-trimmed suitcase _thumped_ to the bottom of the left stairwell. Its owner bounded into the foyer moments later, whooping as if he’d just score a touchdown. 

“ _Finally_.” Jo watched Lightning dance around his suitcase.

His biceps so entranced him that he failed to notice Jo in the middle of the lobby. “Aw yeah, Lightning is sha-first!”

Eager to burst his bubble, Jo smirked. “Hate to break it to ya, Slowning, but once again you’ve lost to a girl.”

Lighting finally took notice of her and stopped dancing. His jaw dropped. “Aw, no way!”

“Way.” She nodded. 

Lightning picked up his suitcase and rolled it over to her duffel bag. 

“Not fair, Jo. You totally sha-cheated.”

Jo rolled her eyes. “How could I cheat when it wasn’t an official race in the first place?”

“Lightning—uh...” Lightning pondered that. He failed to find a good response and instead sputtered, “Lightning’s got his eye on you!”

“Oh boy, I’m _so_ scared.” Jo waved her arms in mock-terror. Considering he had spent a week mistaking her for a boy, Lightning’s eyes were probably one of his least useful assets.

“Good morning friends!” Dawn walked out of the right corridor. A dainty plate of pancakes in her hands, she quirked an eyebrow. “Lightning, good to see you’re doing well. Jo, you appear agitated this morning.”

Jo drummed her fingers on her arms. “I feel the same as usual. But hey, maybe my ‘agitation’ will disappear if you tell me where you got the breakfast.”

“The kitchen, obviously.” Dawn pointed in the direction from which she had just come. “The interns aren’t cooking for us today, so B took initiative and whipped up some food.”

“Lightning is sha-starving!” Lightning proclaimed, rushing past Dawn in a dash for the kitchen. 

“Hey! Wait for me!” Jo sprinted after him, glad for an excuse to run. Usually, her opponent wore green, not blue, but regardless, she caught up to him in moments. They ran neck and neck down the hall until the kitchen came into view. Trying and failing to turn on a dime, Lightning nearly crashed into Jo.

“Watch it, Quarterback!” Jo pushed him aside and officially entered the kitchen before Lightning. Another grand victory for her.

“Ohmegash, hey guys! You’re just in time to hear about Great-Great-Great-Great-Grand-Aunt Christina. She invented pancakes, ya?” 

“Do they keep earplugs in the kitchen?” Jo wondered aloud.

Staci launched into a tangent. At the countertop beside her, B mixed pancake batter in a bowl, his coat sleeves rolled up to avoid mess.

“Dang, brotha, how do you put up with this?” Lightning asked B. The bulky teen’s best response was to shrug and crack another egg.

Jo’s gaze drifted away from B, and she did a double-take at the rest of the kitchen. “ _Woah_.” 

B had constructed an elaborate pulley system that spanned the stovetop griddles. Hanging from a clothesline like a marionette, one mixing bowl hung systematically poured the batter onto empty griddles. Across the stove-top moved a toy robot. Hot-glued to the robot's hand was a spatula that flipped previously-poured pancakes onto their raw backsides. At the end of the automated assembly line, a second spatula tossed finished pancakes onto plates resting on the adjacent countertop.

“Okay, I don’t give compliments often, so believe me when I say this is _incredible_.” Jo ambled over to claim a stack of pancakes for herself. She looked over at B just in time to see him smile warmly and flash her a thumbs up.

“Ay, where’s the protein?” Lightning demanded, picking up a plate and examining its contents thoroughly. “Lightning already packed up his protein powder, and do not get him _started_ on his DPA!”

Jo rolled her eyes. “Eggs have protein. Eggs are used to make pancakes. Therefore, pancakes have protein.” Not a _substantial_ amount of protein, but Lightning wouldn’t know the difference.

“Dang, Jo, when’d you get so sha-smart?”

“You can have brains _and_ brawn, y’know,” she said, smacking Lightning’s shoulder. Then again, anyone could look like a genius next to Lightning.

Jo located the silverware and got to shoveling the pancakes into her mouth. Staci continued to gab on and on and on and on; Jo got sick of it after fifteen seconds.

“Hey, First Boot, why don’t you go put your luggage in the lobby so we can _leave_ on time?” Jo asked. She dipped her head at B. “You too, big guy.”

B gestured to the pancakes he was grilling.

“Dude, you’ve made more than enough.” Jo’s gaze fell onto an empty food trolley on the other side of the kitchen. Hmm… “Just get your stuff down to the lobby. I have a plan for the pancakes.”

Apparently B trusted her or something because he left the kitchen, Staci in tow.

“What’s your big plan?” Lightning asked as Jo stacked plates of pancakes onto the food trolley. 

“Shut up and grab a ton of forks and maple syrup,” she said while she worked.

“Team Dude Plus One Girl is back in business!” Lightning yelled, then ran off to do as she’d commanded.

When the pancakes, forks, and syrup were all accounted for, Jo wheeled the trolley out to the foyer. Bags in hand, B and Staci stood with Dawn. In addition, Zoey, Mike, and Cameron had arrived during Jo’s absence.

“Pancakes!” Mike apparently forgot he disliked Jo just long enough to be grateful she brought in food.

“These look delicious,” Cameron said. The trio came over and picked up breakfast.

“All B’s handiwork,” Jo nodded at him. B mimed wiping his brow as if to say ‘no sweat.’

Dawn meandered over to add some syrup to her half-eaten stack. “It was considerate of you to bring out the breakfast, Jo.”

“Considerate? I’m not _considerate_ ,” Jo scoffed. “This is just more efficient.”

“How so?”

“Now we don’t have to waste time running back and forth to the kitchen for food. We can all eat here and leave immediately.

“Pick up the pace, people!” she added loudly before shoveling pancakes into her own mouth.

“What’s the rush?” Zoey asked between bites of breakfast.

“Um.” Jo swallowed and tapped her fork against her plate. “Don’t you guys want to see how the finale turns out?”

“You more than anyone have a vested interest in how this turns out,” Dawn said. “You were in the final three after all.”

Jo pointed at Dawn. “Yeah, what she said.”

Moments later, a raucous “Hey guys!” caused Jo and company to turn towards the stairwell. Sam stood at the bottom of the stairs, panting heavily and looking ready to drop underneath the weight of Dakota’s sparkly pink luggage.

“Who’s ready to witness the most epic PvP battle ever?” Sam gasped, struggling towards the bag pile in the center of the room.

“Lightning’s gotchu, Potato Boy.” Lightning swiped a bag off Sam’s poorly-postured shoulders, providing some much-needed relief to the gamer.

Sam wiped the sweat of his brow. “Phew, thanks,” he said as Lightning chucked the various pink suitcases onto the luggage pile

“Sam, wait for me!” Dakota bounded down the stairs seconds later. In contrast to her laboring boyfriend, she easily carried Sam’s Pac-Man-patterned backpack and duffel bags.

“Hello, friends.” Dawn gestured to the cart. “B made pancakes for our early start this morning.”

“Epic! I love pancakes!” Sam hurried over, and Dakota followed with a much more postured gait.

Dakota wrinkled her nose while the gamer took his first bite. “Oh, Sam, there’s _so_ many carbs in these things.”

Jo rolled her eyes. Girls on absurd fad diets were the absolute _worst_. “Carbs are _good_ for you, Joker.”

“Yeah, what Jo said,” Sam assured Dakota in a much more gentle tone. “Plus, these pancakes are pretty good!”

“Right, right, okay.” Dakota took a pancake stack and, after a moment’s hesitation, dug in.

“You’re right, Sam!” she squeaked through a mouthful of food. “These _are_ delicious!”

Sam chuckled. “Told ya so.”

While they talked, Jo counted up the people in the room. Sam and Dakota, plus the Staci and B duo, plus the trio of Mike, Cameron, and Zoey, not to mention Lightning, Dawn, and herself, added up to ten campers.

Jo set her nearly empty plate down. “Okay, can someone go find Anne Maria while I start taking our junk outside?”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that.” Dakota giggled. “I’m sure Monica or Josh or Dexter or Clark will be here soon to help load our stuff into the boat.”

“ _Who_?” None of the names triggered Jo's memory.

Dakota looked at her quizzically. “The other interns? _Duh_.”

“They have _names_?” Jo asked incredulously. “I thought they were botched Chris clones from a lab experiment gone wrong.” _No_ , she hadn’t legitimately thought that, but it was an interesting theory to consider.

“I think one or two of them might be his nephews twice removed or something.” Dakota shrugged. “I didn't bother asking.”

“Um, okay.” Jo shrugged. “But still, someone should go get Anne Maria. She could hold us all up!”

“Well, why don’t _you_ go get her?” Sam raised a bushy eyebrow.

“Because I don’t _want_ to?” Jo snapped. She’d rather remain in the foyer so she’d be present when the interns or whoever showed up.

“I can check on Anne Maria,” Dawn volunteered calmly, raising a hand.

“Great.” Jo picked her plate back up, and when she glanced over again, Dawn was gone. Unsurprising.

Jo finished off the last of her pancakes. Idly, she wondered if she should sneak some extra breakfast back to the island for Brick. No way would Chef’s cooking be enough fuel-up before the grand finale.

But then again, he enjoyed Chef’s cooking, so he’d probably be fine.

Dawn hadn’t returned when by the time one of the interns, the pasty boy with a shaggy fringe, walked through the front doors.

“Dexter!” Dakota waved.

The intern sullenly returned the gesture.

“How can he see through those bangs?” Jo muttered to no one in particular.

Dexter coughed loudly. “Excuse me?” he said monotonously. 

Everyone shut up and looked his way, except for Staci and Lightning, who were having a conversation about the invention of football.

B tapped both of their shoulders, and they finally got the hint and shut up.

“Cool.” Dexter pulled a crinkled sheet of paper out of his pocket and looked it over. “Monica will be pulling the boat around front in a few minutes, and we’ll leave in about a half-hour.”

Most of the campers murmured in agreement, except Jo, who rolled her eyes. 

_Oh, come on_. They didn’t need a _half-hour_ to pack everything up. Since she was done with her food, Jo sorted through to pile, found her luggage, and hauled down the dock and towards the small yacht. The ponytailed intern—Monica, apparently—stood at the stern, picking her fingernails.

“Hey, Scrawny!” Jo called. “Is this boat gonna explode like the first one did?” Talk about an unpleasant experience at all. 

Monica shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know anything.”

“How do you not know _anything_?” Jo made a face.

The intern sighed and made her way to the back of the yacht. “I can put your stuff in the storage space if you’d like.”

“Please do.” Jo tossed her duffel bag at Monica. Apparently, Monica shared Cameron’s pitiful dexterity; the bag knocked her straight into the ground.

“Be right back!” Jo called over her shoulder. Monica groaned in response. 

Jo jogged back to the Playa, threw open the doors, and yelled, “Hey, who wants me to take their bags?”

About half of her castmates raised their hands. She spent the next few minutes running back and forth between the lobby and the yacht. The relay suitably replaced her usual morning jog. Zoey’s and Dawn’s bags went first, then Staci’s, then Cameron’s and Sam’s. Dakota’s suitcases took two trips. 

While Jo was on trip number two, Lightning sprinted down the dock with his suitcase, followed by B and Mike at a much more leisurely pace.

“Lightning’s here!” He chucked his suitcase at Monica. Once again, it slammed into her and she collapsed on the yacht’s deck.

“Is that everyone?” Jo asked when B and Mike reached the end of the dock.

“Except for Anne Maria, I think so,” Mike answered.

“We’re here!” chirped Dawn’s voice.

Everyone on the dock turned around. Dawn and Anne Maria stood behind them, the former smiling placidly while the latter sprayed her hair.

“Sorry I took too long or whateva.” Anne Maria threw her fuchsia bags onto the yacht. “Took _forever_ to figure out which spray cans were empty and which hadn’t been used.”

“I wasn’t much help,” Dawn admitted. “Spray cans don’t have auras.”

“Well if you’re here now, that means we can leave!” Jo pointed out. “Get on the boat, Poofhead.”

“Okay, first of all, I ain’t had breakfast yet.” Anne Maria narrowed her eyes. “And second of all, ‘scuse me if I don’t wanna get on a Chris McLean boat. Remember what happened last time?”

“She has a point,” Mike added. “I kinda don’t wanna get blown up again.”

Jo looked at him like he was an idiot (which he was). “Yeah, I already asked the intern. She doesn’t know if Chris boobytrapped the boat or not, but your only alternative is staying on this island forever.”

“Don’t sound like such a bad thing, if you asked me.” Anne Maria gestured to the Playa behind them. “This place is sweet.”

Jo planted her hands on her hips. “You’d run out of hairspray sooner or later.” 

Anne Maria’s expression soured. “Fine. I’ll get on the stinkin’ boat.”

“Um, we don’t leave for another fifteen minutes,” Monica piped up.

Jo sneered at her. “But did I _ask_?”

Without waiting for an answer, she darted back up the steps, burst into the Playa’s lobby, and addressed the remaining five campers and one intern.

“Get out here losers, we’re going to the finale!”

Zoey, Cameron, Staci, Dakota, Sam, and Dexter followed her back to the dock.

“There’s not a bomb on this boat, is there?” Dakota asked, clutching Sam’s hand tightly.

“Please shut up about the hypothetical explosive,” Jo said, pushing the couple onto the boat. 

After everyone else boarded, Jo took a place at the front, right beside B and Dawn.

“Well,” Dexter said glumly, “say goodbye to the Playa.”

“Farewell, humble house!” Dawn clasped her hands poetically.

“Lightning’s sorry he broke your gym equipment!”

“That resort was so cool! Almost as good as the first one my great-uncle Xander built in 1763.”

Jo rubbed her temple and turned to Monica and Dexter, who stood at the helm. “Hey, interns, hurry up and get us to the island!”

“Aye aye, captain,” Monica grumbled. She turned on the engine and they departed from the Playa dock.

Jo’s stomach still felt fuzzy. Probably because she still didn’t know if there was a bomb strapped to the underside of the boat, waiting to detonate. Apparently no one else could forget how their first boat trip to Wawanakwa had ended, because the boat ride was eerily silent. Even resident chatterboxes Staci and Lightning kept their mouths shut. 

Everyone waited for a detonation that never came. Thankfully, the entire cast arrived at the dock in one piece. Jo glanced at the campgrounds in the distance, straining for any sign of Brick or Scott. But the camp remained deserted, and she frowned.

Monica turned off the boat. “Okay, we have specific instructions from Chris. Which I guess technically we violated already when Jo made us leave early…”

Jo glared at the lowly intern. “Pfft, as if Chris is gonna care.”

“In any case, we need to bring you all to the Chrisiseum.”

“The Chris-a-what-now?” Lightning repeated.

Cameron adjusted his glasses. “It appears to be a portmanteau of ‘Chris’ and ‘coliseum.’” 

“Little dude is correct.” Dexter hopped off the boat. “Let’s get going.”

The eleven ex-campers disembarked and followed Dexter and Monica through the woods. Jo walked with Dawn, Lightning, and B.

“Returning to the island is so strange,” Dawn remarked as they trodded along. “Wouldn’t you agree, B?”

B nodded.

“This time yesterday I was eating breakfast with Brick, and I threw pepper in Scott’s sorry face,” Jo said, smiling. Even if her malice towards Scott had doomed her to third place, in hindsight it was still funny.

“Maybe you’ll get to do it again today,” Lightning suggested. 

Jo chuckled. “Yeah, hopefully.”

Five minutes later, Dexter and Monica halted the trek in front of a large wooden coliseum. Chris’ face was plastered on the entrance. Typical.

Mike stared up at the construction. “How long has _this_ been here?” 

“Since yesterday morning.” Monica walked through the entrance arch and motioned for the teens to follow. “We built it during the challenge.”

Jo pursed her lips. And what a fun challenge that had been.

The Chrisiseum was pretty much a dirt pit surrounded by rickety wooden walls. Scattered across the ground were random objects, including a flopping fish and a blowtorch. A flat-screen TV mounted one panel on the left side of the arena. Directly across from the entrance, three rows of wooden bleachers sat beneath a box seat balcony.

When the ex-campers stood in front of the bleachers, Dexter attempted to smooth his instructions sheet.

“Okay, everybody!” He squinted at the paper. “According to Chris, all original Mutant Maggots will sit in the top row, and the Toxic Rats will sit in the row below.”

“What about the third row?” Zoey asked.

“Saving for ‘a surprise.’” Dexter air-quoted.

Jo and her peers filled out the rows. Cameron, Mike, and Zoey sat on Jo’s right, and Anne Maria sat on her left. Beneath the Maggot sat the Rats: Staci, Dakota, Sam, Dawn, Lightning, and finally B.

“Alright, we’re all seated.” Jo rubbed her hands in anticipation. “What’s next?”

“Well now you just sit there until the challenge starts,” Dexter said.

“What do you mean just _sit there_?” 

“Since _someone_ insisted we leave early, we’re ahead of schedule.” Monica and Dexter turned to leave.

“Ay, where youse scurryin’ off to?” Anne Maria asked, leaning forward.

Dexter waved the paper. “Chris needs us elsewhere.”

With all supervision gone, the cheering section burst into chatter. 

As expected, Pigtails was chatting up her stick-thin boyfriend. In front of Jo, Dawn and Lightning had struck up a conversation about algebra—an unexpected development that left Jo with no one else to talk to, unless Anne Maria counted. And outside of insulting her former teammate, Jo couldn’t think of anything worthwhile to say. 

So she kept her mouth shut and drummed her fingers on the bench.

After an eternity—probably closer to twenty minutes, in all honesty—Dakota yelled and pointed across the arena.

“Look everyone!”

The TV had turned on, revealing their host. Chris wore a Roman toga and golden laurels in his hair. What a _dweeb_.

“—you each get thirty seconds to speak to a loved one back home,” Chris was saying.

The camera panned out. Beside Chris was a portable TV, and besides _that_ stood Brick and Scott.

“Wait, this is _live_ ,” Jo realized.

“What clued you in?” Anne Maria snarked.

Jo clenched her fists, eyes glued to the screen. “Shut up!”

A middle-aged woman appeared on the portable TV. With coiffed brown hair tied back by a patterned bandana, she looked like she’d stepped straight out of the fifties.

“Mom!” Brick beamed.

 _That’s his mom_? Jo rested her arms on the wooden railing in front of her, drinking in the scene.

“Sorry I haven’t written like I said I would,” Brick was saying. “Apparently the Arts and Crafts Center was eaten by mutant beavers.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie,” his mom answered cheerfully. “I’m just so glad to see you again! How does camp compare to basic training?”

“Same interesting food, same rigorous exercise, same demanding authoritarians.” Brick ticked off each point on his fingers. “And the new friendships I’ve formed more than make up for the life-threatening mutants.”

“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” Brick’s mom said. Her gaze focused on something beyond the camera. “Brick, hon, I gotta go. Dad’s at work, and I promised I’d take your sisters out for a gals-only breakfast before you get back.”

“But—”

“Can’t wait to see you, baby! Good luck!” She saluted the camera; moments later, the feed cut off.

Brick saluted the empty screen. “I’ll do you proud, mom!”

“Wow. She couldn’t be bothered to stay for the whole thirty seconds, _sweetie_?” Scott drawled snidely.

Brick folded his arms defiantly. “Mom’s just busy a lot. We all are!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Scott scoffed.

“I’m gonna punch this guy,” Jo muttered by accident.

Dawn laughed and peeked up with her. “Don't worry too much. Scott’s just projecting.”

Next, a wrinkled man with a grey beard and green baseball cap filled the TV screen. He squinted at the camera.

“Is this thing on?” The dude sounded like a cross between Scott and Chester.

“Pappy!” An uncharacteristically delighted grin split across Scott’s face. 

“Scotty, is that you?” The old man smiled. “I’ve missed you, boy!”

“Does this sweet old man know he raised a _weasel_?” Zoey muttered. Jo snorted.

“What’s new at the farm?” Scott asked.

Pappy sighed. “Well, a blight hit our crops on Tuesday. Lost most of the corn in the western fields.”

“Aw, man!” Scott cried. “How did _that_ happen?”

“Bought some fungus on the black market.” Pappy took off his hat and wrung it shamefully. “Meant to infect the neighbor’s corn, but I must’ve spilled some on our own crop.”

“What the heck?” Anne Maria nearly dropped her spray can.

“So that’s where Scott gets his weaselness from,” Jo remarked to Zoey.

“Pappy, you gotta be _careful_ with black market fungi!” Scott furrowed his brow in annoyance. “We're probably gonna go into debt now!”

“Well, I ain’t gotta worry about anything, debt or otherwise.” Pappy slapped his hat back on his head. “When you come home with that million dollars, we’ll be set for the next two years! Woo hoo!”

Pappy’s video feed cut out; Scott slapped his forehead. “Ugh. I was gonna use the million dollars to get _away_ from the farm, but now I gotta help save it? This is rotten.”

“You won’t have to make any hard decisions,” Brick said, glaring at Scott, “because you won’t be the one winning the money.”

Abruptly, the peanut gallery’s TV switched off.

“Hey!” Jo jumped up. “Where’s the rest of it?”

Cameron shrugged. “Evidently, we were only meant to see those video messages, not the entire footage.”

Dawn twisted around so she was looking back at Jo. “They’re probably en route to the Chrisiseum right now.”

“Well can they hurry it up?” Jo grumbled.

“Sit down, Jo. You’re destabilizing your ch’i.”

“I’ll destabilize _your_ ch’i.” Jo sat down anyways. She was tired of the anticipation fizzing in her gut. Just get on with the finale already!

“Oh no!” Zoey sighed.

“ _What_?” Jo looked over.

“I forgot the poster I made last night,” Zoey lamented. “Aw, this bites.”

“It’s okay, Zo.” Mike placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s the thought that counts.”

“What he said,” Jo added unhelpfully.

A sudden burst of trumpet fanfare made Jo flinch.

“Hello, losers!” called Chris’ cheeky voice.

“Look!” Anne Maria pointed upwards. Jo twisted around and followed Anne Maria’s gaze. Chris settled into the elevated box seat above the bleachers. He wore the same toga as he’d been wearing on the broadcast minutes earlier. Dexter and Monica, both holding trumpets, flanked the host.

“Long time no see.” Chris leaned back in his chair.

“Where’s Brick and Weasel Breath?” Jo demanded. 

Chris yawned. “I told them to wait outside the Chrisiseum so I could talk to you fools first. Cameras are gonna start rollin’ in a few moments, okay? Because the audience has probably forgotten all your _unimportant_ faces, I’m gonna reintroduce you.”

“Standard reality TV procedure,” Dakota said airly. Sam chuckled. Jo rolled her eyes at both of them.

“Just smile and wave at the camera. That means _no talking_ , Staci, no _muscle-flexing_ , Lightning, and no _hair spraying_ , Anne Maria.” Chris pointed at each contestant in turn.

“Yeesh, you’re just jealous I work it better than you.” Anne Maria set her hairspray aside and crossed her arms.

Lightning’s jaw dropped. “The Lightning’s _never_ been so insulted!” 

Chris tapped an imaginary watch. “Cut the side chatter, ‘kay? Interns! _Commence_ the _fanfare_!”

The interns blew their trumpets. Surprise! They didn’t totally suck. In fact, they played their instruments suspiciously well. Strange.

“Welcome, finalists!” Chris cheered.

The boys walked into the arena. Jo couldn’t help but grin.

“Brick!” she called.

She locked eyes with him. He grinned and saluted. “Long time no see!”

“Chris already used that joke!” Jo yelled back.

“Finalists, say ‘what’s up’ to your cheering sections!” Chris narrated, totally ruining the moment. He ran down the line, introducing each eliminated contestant. When Jo’s name was called, she glanced up and smiled briefly at the camera.

“Woo hoo!” Zoey yelled as soon as Chris finished the role-call. “Go Brick!” 

“Yeah!” Cameron pumped a scrawny fist in the air. Everyone cheered for Brick, even the Rats.

“Your support means a lot.” Brick saluted everyone. “Thank you, troops. I won’t let you down!”

“Like heck you won’t,” Jo replied bluntly. Honestly, if Scott came out of this with one million dollars she’d probably burn his farm down, black-market fungi and all. 

“Where’s _my_ cheer squad?” Scott asked. “I thought the Rats were supposed to cheer for _me_.”

“Why would we cheer for you?” Dawn asked, pursing her lips. “You got all of us eliminated.”

“Yeah, you kinda _suck_ ,” Anne Maria added venomously. Jo looked at her curiously. 

“Boo,” Cameron added, blowing a raspberry at the ginger farm boy.

“Someone’s gotta cheer for Scott,” Chris insisted. “We can’t have the viewers think this is rigged!”

“Isn’t it?” Jo raised an eyebrow. She was joking—for the most part.

Chris waved a remote in the air. “If no one cheers for Scott, I’ll be forced to unleash… _him_!”

He pressed the button. In the third and final row of the bleachers appeared Fang. He growled and strained against the shackles chaining him to the bottom of the bleachers. The Rats all scooted away from him.

“Fine, I’ll take one for the team,” Staci sighed. “Go Scott, ya?”

“That’s better.” Chris smiled. “Now, on with the main event!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that I do not share all of Jo's harsh opinions. Hardest part of the chapter was writing the parent video calls. I did consider having Albertha call Scott, but I felt Pappy had more comedy potential.  
> Catch ya Monday for the finale!


	18. The Good, the Bad, and the Larry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys' gladiator match is interrupted by demented mutants.

A gladiator battle royale. Jo’s jaw literally dropped as Chris explained the challenge. Both he and Scott would face her wrath for cheating her out of this challenge. Jo would’ve _excelled_ in such a physical environment.

On the flip side, it was probably a good thing she and Brick hadn’t made it to this particular finale. Jo, more than willing to pummel Scott into a coma with no remorse, couldn't say the same about Brick.

“Oh _Chef_!” Chris sing-songed.

A low rumble filled the air; Chef’s helicopter flew overhead. Flimsily tied beneath the chopper dangled a large dumpster. 

_This can’t be good_. Jo grimaced as the lid unlatched. An avalanche of junk tumbled out, piling up in the arena below. Most of the contents appeared to be scrap metal interspersed with a variety of other objects—tires, toilets, and kitchen supplies, to name a few.

“Thank you Chef!” Chris yelled while Chef steered the chopper away from the Chrisiseum. After the roar of its blades had faded, Chris continued explaining the challenge.

“But watch your step,” he added at the end of his schtick. “I may have loaded the dumpster with a bunch of booby traps.” Chris chuckled and snapped a finger. 

While Monica the intern fumbled with Chris’ CD player, Jo watched Scott and Brick. Though Scott glared intently at Chris, his clenched fists betrayed his nerves. Brick, meanwhile, stood at attention, a soldier awaiting orders. His shoulders were just a little too stiff; he was nervous, too. 

“Go!” Chris yelled.

The boys made a break for the pile of garbage. Everyone burst into cheers, whoops, and whistles as the finalists dug through the crud.

“Find a helmet!” Anne Maria waved her spray can wildly. “Gotta protect the hair!”

“Forget the hair, protect your frickin’ face!” Jo yelled.

From underneath a pile of tires, Brick retrieved a scuffed Brodie helmet. 

“This must’ve been Chef’s!” he yelled as he put it on. Across the yard, Scott watched with narrowed eyes. He waded into a pile of rusty kitchen supplies, selected a colander, and placed it on his head.

“What a copycat!” Zoey huffed.

“I’ll say,” Jo agreed just as Scott walked two steps to the right and tripped into a rat trap.

“Ah!” he yelped as the snare clamped down on his arm. 

Jo smirked; Chris outright cackled. “Yes! I was hoping Scott’d be the one to run into that!”

While Scott tried to free himself from the trap, Jo refocused her attention on Brick. Looking for something useful, he pushed aside various scraps of metal. Suddenly a plume of smoke engulfed him, sending Brick into a coughing fit. Even from the other side of the Chrisiseum, Jo gagged over the smell of rotten eggs.

“Ah, stink bombs,” said Chris. “Truly a classic.”

Brick used his new helmet to fan away the fumes. Jo watched, and her gaze accidentally glanced over his boots. 

“That’s it!” Jo realized. She snapped to get his attention. “Brick! Make some stink bombs!”

“With what?” Cameron asked, looking over at her. “A generic stinkbomb requires a chemical reaction, and I sincerely doubt Chef was storing any ammonia and hydrogen sulfide in that dumpster.”

Jo ignored Cameron’s nerd-talk. “Use your boots! I know for a fact those things _reek_!”

He nodded at her. “Excellent strategy!”

Brick got to work on his stink bombs, and Jo looked over at Scott. She expected him to be hard at work crafting armor; instead, he was dragging an assortment of string, metal, and wood to the other side of the arena.

“What the heck is Scott doing!” Jo flashed two thumbs down in his direction. “Boo!”

Zoey gasped dramatically. “He’s gotta be building traps!”

“Traps don’t count as armor! Ain’t that cheating?” Lightning asked.

“As if that’s ever stopped Freckle Face before,” Jo scoffed.

“Go Scott!” Staci cheered. “My great-uncle Fred invented traps. Do him proud!” 

“Be quiet, Loudmouth,” Jo snapped.

“Chill out, Jo.” Mike grimaced. “She’s only cheering for Scott ‘cause Chris forced her to.”

“Mind your business.” Even if Chris had threatened them with a mutant shark, cheering for Scott was practically a war crime.

Scott scurried back to the junk pile to retrieve more supplies. He passed Brick, who was now shoeless but wore an old tire slung across his chest. The makeshift bandolier held several stink bombs.

“Go buddy!” Mike cheered. “Use some of the scrap metal to forge armor!”

Jo scowled; Point had just stolen her next brilliant idea.

Brick gathered metal scraps together, lit up a blowtorch, and began the welding process.

Dawn gasped. “Everyone! Scott is walking straight into a cloud of negative energy!”

The entire peanut gallery zeroed in on Scott. Another few yards of twin balled in his hands, he walked past a dilapidated toilet.

The toilet abruptly exploded. Everyone cheered, Jo and Chris loudest of all, as sewer water knocked Scott over. He gurgled like a fish, gasping for air.

“Oh man!” Chris was near hysterics. “ _That_ was for flinging me into the outhouse!”

Scott sat up and slicked back his waterlogged ginger hair.

“I bet you guys think this is _so_ funny,” he yelled at the peanut gallery.

“Yeah, we kinda do!” Jo hollered back.

“Sounds like _someone_ is jealous they didn’t make it to the finale.” Scott stood up, shook off the water as would a dog, and stalked off to finish building his traps. Jo huffed and redoubled her efforts on rooting for Brick.

For a few minutes, nothing new happened. Brick kept welding, Scott kept building, and the peanut gallery kept cheering. Well, Zoey and Mike kept cheering. The Rats were quieting down, and Anne Maria had instructed Jo to “wake me up when it gets good.” Jo herself leaned on the wooden railing, watching her former teammate work.

“Finished!” Brick proclaimed, tossing aside the welder. He put on his armor: metal shin guards and arm plates. Jo had to admit he looked pretty hardcore.

“Woohoo!” she whistled. 

“Brick!” Zoey gestured to her own face. “War paint!” 

He saluted her before stooping to the ground, sweeping up some dirt on his fingers, and spreading it across his cheeks the same way Zoey had done two days ago. 

“Yeah!” Zoey cheered. 

“Time’s up!” Chris announced. “Finalists, take your stances for the ultimate Total Drama showdown.”

Jo nudged Anne Maria. “It’s getting good!” she hissed. 

Anne Maria snorted as she jolted awake. “I’m here, I’m here!”

Brick abandoned the trash pile and stood near the center of the Chrisiseum. On the other side of the arena, Scott stood in the eye of a hurricane of tripwires, spikes, and other simple traps. For armor, he wore only the colander helmet and five hexagonal nuts ringed on each finger, imitating brass knuckles—weren’t those illegal in Canada?

Jo was 90% sure they were, but she was also 90% sure half the stuff on Total Drama was illegal anyways.

“It’s the gladiator battle to end all gladiator battles!” Chris narrated, gesticulating wildly for the cameras’ benefit.

“Who’s ready to run back home to Mommy?” Scott sneered, folding his arms.

“I’ve faced tougher opponents than you at _junior_ boot camp,” Brick retorted. Jo made a face; she was certain that he had, but she was also equally certain that wasn’t something to brag about.

“Whatever.” The colandar rattled as Scott tilted his head. “Just try not to pee your pants.”

Okay, yes, Scott was the enemy and Brick needed all the support he could get, but Jo had to fight a smile at the way Brick’s face turned bright red.

“Aw come _on_!” he groaned. “You have to bring that up _again_?”

“Save the trash talk for the battle,” Chris quipped. “Oh, and in the grand Total Drama tradition, there are gonna be a few _obstacles_ to deal with, which I will release into the ring whenever I feel like it.”

Brick and Scott both glared at Chris, and Jo shared their pique. _Can’t Chris shove it with the mutant stuff for once_?

“The match ends when one gladiator pins the other for three seconds.”

“Three seconds? That’s _it_?” Scott’s eyes lit up with surprise. “I’ve pinned down Pappy’s _pigs_ for longer than that.”

“Too bad we aren’t on the farm anymore,” Brick replied dryly.

“And…” Chris drew out the pause and Jo forgot to breathe for a moment. “Go!”

Scott didn’t move from his web of traps. With a vigorous war cry, Brick charged at him. He hopped over several of Scott’s tripwires.

“Woo!” Jo cheered. “That’s my champion!”

“Kick his scraggly butt back all the way back to Saskatchewan!” Anne Maria yelled angrily. She finished off a can of hairspray and threw it. The can bounced off Fang’s snout and landed in the arena. Fang growled.

“Question.” Jo looked at her. “Have you ever been personally victimized by Scott?” 

Anne Maria shook her head and pulled out a fresh can. “Nope. I just love puttin’ men in their place.”

“Dang right.” Jo grinned.

Brick was still maneuvering through Scott’s traps while the latter waited at the center like a loser.

One misstep caused Brick to trip. He screamed, fell to the ground, and narrowly missed a barrage of arrows, courtesy of Scott.

“Hey! I made those arrows!” Zoey cried indignantly.

“Nice one,” Scott cackled, looking down at Brick.

Still on the ground, Brick lobbed a stink bomb at Scott’s feet. Scott’s hand flew to pinch his nose, but it was too late; he’d already smelled the initial blast. Scott doubled over, coughing wildly.

“Incredible!” Cameron cheered.

Brick scrambled to his feet, grinning proudly. “Looks like someone can’t take the smell of _war_.”

“Get over there and _pin_ him, doofus!” Jo screamed, jumping up indignantly.

Brick hopped over another few tripwires until he was feet away from Scott. Before Brick could tackle him, Scott shoved a hand into his pocket and threw a powdery substance into Brick’s face.

“Pocket sand!” Scott yelled.

“More like plaster powder,” Chris commentated.

“Aah!” Brick rubbed his eyes frantically. “My vision has been compromised! Help!”

“Time for a close encounter of the _mutant_ kind.” Chris’ voice drew Jo’s attention upwards. He held up a remote and pressed a red button.

On the other side of the area, a door opened, revealing the giant mutant beetle that had terrorized Cameron during the ice fortress challenge.

“Oh no!” Dawn fretted as the beetle wound up its arms.

“What’s happening?” Brick asked, waving his hands around blindly. “Who’s there?”

The giant insect punched Brick, sending him flying across the area. Scott pointed and laughed, only to receive a punch of his own. He fell back into multiple tripwires and set off several of his own traps.

“Ouch!” Scott screamed as a wooden log slammed into his side.

Zoey smirked. “That’s karma for you!”

The beetle skittered up to Brick, who was still blinking the plaster powder out of his eyes.

“Dude! On your sha-left!” Lightning hollered. “Duck!”

At the exact moment the beetle unleashed a torrent of fire, Brick took Lightning’s advice and dodged. The fire singed the top of his army helmet.

“Oh that was a _close_ one.” Anne Maria clutched her spray can. “Without that helmet, that scruffy hair woulda been _toast_.”

“Glad to see we have our priorities in order.” Jo was trying desperately to resist the urge to run down and pummel that stupid beetle. It had grabbed Brick in its spiky little claws and was beating him up.

Scott came running into the fray, fist raised.

“Pocket sand part two!” He threw the powder. The mutant beetle unfurled and flittered its wings, blowing away Scott’s pitiful attack. 

And then it did something strange. The beetle dropped Brick and skittered over to Scott. Drawing him uncomfortably close, the beetle nuzzled Scott affectionately. 

“What the heck is going _on_?” Jo gaped.

“Scott and I bonded with the beetle in our ice hut,” Dawn answered nonchalantly. The beetle was now running its legs up Scott’s arms, and the latter was screaming.

Jo’d just have to wait for the episode airing to learn the whole story, because a hole opened up in the center of the Chrisiseum. 

_Oh great_. She chewed the inside of her lip as an enormous scaly green monster rose up from the ground.

“Sha-dang!” Lightning gasped.

Cameron pointed uselessly. “It’s the mutant alligator from the swamp!”

The alligator roared and lumbered over to Brick, Scott, and the beetle.

Brick wiped his arm across his face. “Good news, I can see—aah!” He stumbled back. With a flick of its tentacle, the alligator tossed away the mutant beetle, grabbed Scott, and popped him into its mouth.

 _Crunch_.

Jo blanched. Zoey screamed and clutched Mike’s arm in terror.

“I can’t look!”

“You really should.” Chris laughed. “The ratings on this are gonna be _huge_.”

A shrill whine directed everyone’s attention back to the alligator. Its flabby jaws moved involuntarily, a sure sign Scott was fighting his way out. 

The monster’s mouth opened momentarily, revealing a relatively unscathed Scott slamming his brass knuckles into the alligator’s gums.

“Let me _out_!” Scott screamed, struggling to keep the mouth open. In the audience, Fang growled.

“Sir, I demand you unhand him immediately!” Brick yelled at the alligator. “I need to win this fair and square!” 

The alligator rolled its eyes. Surprisingly, it complied and spit Scott out of its mouth. In the same instant, it scooped up Brick in its slimy arm.

Jo clenched her fists. Brick struggled against the pressure and retrieved one of his stink bombs from his bandolier. He threw it at the alligator’s face, and it exploded into a haze of putridness.

The alligator dropped Brick and wretched, disoriented by the smell. 

“That thing lives in a fricking swamp!” Mike commented. “Brick's boots must stink if they disoriented the alligator like that!”

“Go Brick!” Zoey and Cameron cheered.

“Mission accomplished!” Brick put a fist in the air as the alligator stumbled closer to the bleachers.

Too close for comfort, actually. 

Jo’s eyes widened at the tentacles looming over the peanut gallery.

“Run!” Chris yelled.

Jo screamed and nearly trampled Anne Maria as she and the other contestants scrambled out of the bleachers. Moments later, the alligator slammed into the seating area. Splinters and teenagers scattered everywhere.

“Is everyone okay?” Zoey yelled. She and Mike sprawled on the ground a few yards away from Jo.

Jo looked around, assessing the situation. The alligator sat in the rubble, apparently unconscious from its spill. She counted ten teens, plus herself; everyone was accounted for.

“Uh, guys!” Cameron pointed. Jo turned around; eyes wide. Chris’ remote must’ve malfunctioned because just beyond Brick and Scott, a horde of mutants loomed over the Chrisiseum. Jo zeroed in on one in particular and scowled.

“ _Larry_ ,” she muttered, getting to her feet.

All at once, the mutants ran rampant, and so did the contestants. Mike grabbed Zoey’s hand and the two ran screaming through the arena. Several electric rats scurried up to the remaining kids. 

“Aah!” Jo scrambled out of their way as they unleashed an electrical current on several other campers.

Anne Maria’s blood-curdling shriek woke the dead. Jo kept running, only glancing back long enough to see the rats had blown a hole through Anne Maria’s prized hair. _Rest in pieces, Poofhead_.

Jo dodged a bloodsucking mutant fly and ran past Lightning, who was fistfighting Ezekiel.

On the other side of the arena, which was considerably less saturated by mutants, Jo skidded to a halt and stared back at the chaos. The tree squid was demolishing Dawn and B; a mutant gopher attempted to drag Staci into its hole; the mutant mountain goats were devouring Cameron’s hoodie; Dakota had picked a fight with a giant snapping turtle, and Fang had selected Sam as his newest victim. In the center of it all, Brick and Scott continued their battle for the million dollars, dodging traps and throwing powder and/or bombs.

And then she couldn’t keep track of the fight anymore, namely because her view was blocked by a ticked off Larry. Despite his lack of eyes, he stared her down, snarling angrily.

“You back for a rematch, big guy?” Jo yelled, pointing at him dramatically. “I’m not scared of you!”

Larry swiped at her. Jo dodged and attempted to latch onto his grassy torso. Larry hissed and stomped his feet wildly. Jo's grip loosened, and she fell off. Larry seized the opportunity to nab her in his claws.

“Oh _great_!” Jo screamed angrily as Larry toted her around. “Just perfect!”

The overgrown houseplant made a beeline for Zoey and Mike and scooped them up in his right hand. Zoey and Mike screamed. 

“Let us go!” Zoey pleaded.

“Confound it! Unhand us, you tiny tyke!” Apparently being harassed by a mutant flytrap had triggered Chester. Great. If Svetlana or even Vito had swapped in, they could’ve taken on Larry.

“Go ahead and eat me already!” Jo demanded. If she could get inside Larry’s mouth again, maybe she’d have a better chance to escape.

Larry only tightened his grip. Ignoring Zoey’s and Mike’s screams, he roared maniacally, waving his prizes in the air. All movements constricted, Jo struggled to breathe.

 _If I die right now I’m gonna be so_ —

Without warning, Larry squealed, dropped them into the dirt, and bolted out of the arena.

“Agh!” Jo sucked in a breath of air—and immediately gagged on the stench of a stink bomb. Still, air was air.

“Thanks Brick!” Zoey yelled between coughs.

Jo’s eyes landed on their savior. His stink bomb arsenal now depleted, Brick saluted them, and she smiled despite the tears of disgust forming in her eyes.

“I’ve never been so grateful to have my nostrils violated,” Jo called, jumping to her feet. 

“Just keepin’ to the code!” Brick answered.

“Hiya!” Scott jumped onto Brick and tackled him to the ground. Brick pushed him off immediately, and the boys kept fighting.

 _I gotta help_. Oh, great; her do-gooder reflex was instinctive now. Jo was ready to charge into the fray when Zoey grabbed her shoulder.

“The heck are you doing, Red?” Jo demanded.

Zoey shook her head seriously.

“This is his fight.”

Okay yeah, Zoey had a point, but she didn’t need to act all mystical and wise about it. Jo sighed and stood down. 

Chester vigorously shook his head. “What’s happening?” Yep, Mike had returned.

Zoey summarized: “Brick used a stink bomb to save us from that crazy mutant plant.”

“Oh. Dang.” Mike scratched his head awkwardly.

The mutants were dispersing now; many had charged out of the Chrisiseum, anxious to return to their natural habitats—as natural as a forest of toxic waste could be, anyways. Without the fear of being eaten, the peanut gallery could now finish watching the gladiator fight.

Jo, Mike, and Zoey joined Anne Maria, whose hair had somehow been restored to its former glory, and observed as Scott and Brick made jabs at each other.

“Go Brick!” Anne Maria cheered.

“Kick his butt!” Jo added as Brick used his armor to block one of Scott’s blows. 

By now, the boys had tripped all of Scott’s booby traps. Brick had run out of stink bombs, and Scott had used up his plaster powder. They had nothing but their fists and their reflexes—and their helmets.

Scott ducked, ducked, jumped, and punched. He took off his colander and hurled it at Brick, hitting him square in the forehead.

“Agh!” Brick dropped to the ground. Scott sprang at the chance to pin his opponent. At the last second, Brick rolled out of the way and picked himself up.

“Just give up already!” Scott yelled, banging his fist in the dirt.

“Negative _that_!” Brick shrugged off the tire bandolier and tossed it at Scott like a lasso. He missed, but just barely. 

“Is that all you _got_?” Scott geared up to land another punch. Brick ducked, retrieved his tire from the dirt, and threw it at Scott again. 

This time, it was right on target. The tire fell across Scott’s shoulders. Before Scott could shimmy it off, Brick finally tackled him to the ground. Jo's heart pounded in her chest, almost as if it was she who was in the fight.

The peanut gallery counted the seconds.

“One!” Jo smirked gleefully.

“Two!” Scott snarled like a rat caught in a trap.

“Three!” As the final second passed, Brick’s determined expression relaxed. Everyone exploded into earnest cheered.

“Brick has done it!” Chris appeared out of nowhere, riding on a chariot. “Brick has won Total Drama: Revenge of the Island _and_ the million dollars!” 

Before Anne Maria or Zoey could congratulate Brick, Jo shoved them aside and ran forward, grinning like a madwoman. She dropped to her knees and slung an arm around his shoulders.

“You did it! You won!” She jammed her finger into Brick’s chest. “Suck on _that_ , Scott!” she added with a glance down at their defeated enemy.

“Get _off_ of me,” Scott groaned.

“Oh my gosh, _congrats_!” Zoey yelled, sitting down on the Brick’s other side.

Jo coughed on hairspray as Anne Maria joined their celebratory hug. “I knew ya could do it, champ!”

“You did amazing!” Mike chirped as he and Cameron sat down with them too.

“I couldn’t have done it without your help,” Brick answered modestly, but he beamed as he looked around at all his friends. His gaze lingered on Jo. “You made all the difference.”

“You’re the MVP, doll.” Anne Maria punched his shoulder affectionately. “Now let’s get off Scott before we do permanent damage to his spine, huh?”

They all laughed. Scott mumbled into the mud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today was my first day of college, and man do I miss being able to write Total Drama fanfics for six hours a day.  
> Anyways, to absolutely no one's surprise, Brick wins Revenge of the Island! I'm still new to writing action sequences, but I think I did both Brick and Scott justice; Scott flew solo and utilized his trapping skills while Brick received suggestions from his friends, playing into the teamwork/friendship motif. And they both got their fair share of injuries since we know Total Drama just loves to hurt its contestants.


	19. Thirteen Ways To Say Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the finale concluded, the contestants head off to the airport.

Before they boarded the boat, Chris allowed one last confession to anyone who needed to air their laundry a final time. Obviously, season finalists Brick and Scott went, but so did Jo.

“Okay, gotta make this quick. Can’t postpone the inevitable for _too_ long.” Jo cracked her knuckles as she spoke. “Going into this, I didn’t think I’d lose. I didn’t think Brick, some do-gooder cadet, would come out on top. And I _especially_ didn’t think that I’d become… friends with him, or Dawn or Zoey or, heck, even Lightning.”

She paused, searching for words or witty one-liners the editors could intersperse into the events of the past half hour. “I didn’t think Brick had it in ‘im, but he did! And I couldn’t be prouder.” She flashed a genuine smile at the camera and its blinking red light. “Make no mistake, I haven’t gone _soft_ or anything. Just realized that maybe this whole friendship thing isn’t as namby-pamby as I thought. Also, screw Larry.”

Hmm. Usually, she spent like ten minutes in her confessionals. Maybe it was the fact that this was her last one of the season, or maybe it was the fact that Scott’s villainy had finally met its match, or maybe it was the fact she had a boat to catch. Whatever the reason, Jo had nothing more to say.

“Catch ya next season.” She saluted the camera and jogged out of the outhouse confessional. 

Apparently they had one final scene to film to close out the episode. Jo climbed into the front of the yacht, taking a position beside Dawn and B. Scott cowered at the end of the boat, sulking, and everyone sans Brick filled out the rest of the space.

On the dock, Chris presented Brick with the million-dollar briefcase.

“Can’t believe this is real.” Brick rubbed his eyes as he walked down the length of the dock. “I’d like to thank my family, my drill sergeant, and the entirety of the Canadian Armed Forces.”

“Yeah yeah.” Chris waved a hand, forcing him to end the speech early.

Jo glanced pointedly at Dawn, who got the message and stepped aside so Brick could get on the boat.

“Whatcha gonna spend it on first?” Anne Maria piped up from behind B. 

“A new game console?” Sam suggested.

“A tank!” Lightning called out. “Sha-bam!”

Jo, who already knew the answer, half-smiled as Brick chuckled and rubbed his neck. “I, ah, actually want to try my hand at fashion school.”

Multiple surprised mouths dropped open.

“Fashion school?” Scott nearly shrieked. “My million dollars is going to _fashion school_?”

“Ay yo, shut your _mouth_!” Anne Maria recovered from her astonishment just in time to glare daggers at him. He shut up.

Chef pulled away from the dock. The sudden movement caused all the passengers to lurch. On impulse, Jo grabbed Brick’s hand.

“Just in case you slip,” she explained when he looked at her. “Wouldn’t want you to trip into the water and lose that money.”

“I’m not _that_ clumsy!” But despite his protest, Brick didn’t let go.

 _Kaboom_.

Jo whipped her head around. During their five-second conversation, the right side of the dock had exploded. Several helicopters hovered in the sky, and their beloved host floated in the lake.

“You’re busted, McLean!” yelled one of the helicopter pilots over the loudspeaker.

Jo couldn’t hear Chris’s response, but he was probably lying through his teeth.

“Creating an environmental disaster, that’s what!” yelled the helicopter pilot. He barked out several more orders, but the cheers of Jo and her castmates drowned out the exact words. The thought of Chris going to prison was pretty much the cherry on top of an excellent day.

After a fifteen-minute boat trip, everyone disembarked and loaded onto a bus destined for Muskoka’s local airport. Brick and Jo sat in the front, across the aisle from Anne Maria and Lightning, and in front of Zoey and Mike. At some point during the ride, Anne Maria got her hands on a sheet of paper and insisted on handing out her number to everyone she deemed worthy of it. Zoey decided to do the exact same thing, albeit in nicer handwriting and glitter pens.

Everyone else joined in the number-exchange. Jo ended up pocketing five numbers from Brick, Flower Power, Psychology Major, Jockstrap, and Poofhead. Two minutes later, Anne Maria announced she’d create a cast group chat once she got home, rendering the entire exchange pointless.

An hour after their initial departure, the teens arrived at the airport. The network had paid for everyone’s outgoing flights—almost like an apology present for stuffing them onto a mutated island for twelve days. Chef distributed thirteen plane tickets. After checking their bags, Jo and her fellow competitors went through the CATSA checkpoint. Everyone breezed past security except for Brick, whose million-dollar briefcase earned raised eyebrows from the agent checking his bag.

“Don’t mind him,” Jo told the agent as she progressed to the other side of the checkpoint. “He just won a reality show.”

It took several minutes of explanation, and some paperwork on Chef’s part, to satisfy the agent. At last, she allowed Brick to pass through. Once they were all in the terminal, Chef spoke, mostly reminding them about the basics—when the show would premiere, be on the lookout for emails from the producers, and most importantly, they were contractually forbidden from publicly discussing their experiences on the show until _after_ the season aired.

He added, “Y’all couples might want to keep it on the down-low, too.” Chef looked at Mike and Zoey, Dakota and Sam, and then, for some _random_ reason, at Jo and Brick. Jo couldn’t decide between rolling her eyes or sticking out her tongue, so she settled on glaring vehemently at him.

“That’s all I gotta say.” He threw up his hands. “I’m takin’ the year off. _Ciao_.” Chef threw on some sunglasses, turned on his heel, and disappeared into the airport crowds.

Jo’s fingers curled around her carry-on duffel bag, crinkling the ticket in her hand. The post-victory elation had worn off, and the euphoric butterflies in her stomach had been replaced by ones of malaise. She frowned. 

This was it.

Uneasiness draped across the cast like a shadow. Feet shuffled hesitantly. Fingers awkwardly scratched behind heads. Downcast gazes searched the floor. Jo herself pursed her lips. How to say goodbye? Apparently nobody knew how.

 _Man, this sucks_. Jo would’ve said something if she had known what to say. Just as she’d been in the confessional, she was at a loss for words.

Thankfully, not everyone had that handicap.

“Well, it was nice meeting everybody! I’m gonna get some snacks before my plane leaves, ya.” Staci’s bold words broke the group’s awkward silence. “If you ever need help with a history project, let me know? I can tell you everything about my ancestors.”

“We _know_.” Dakota’s quip elicited a few giggles and chuckles.

After receiving a hug from Cameron, Staci dashed off down the terminal hall, on the search for some goodies. With the spell now broken, the cast clustered off to say farewells. Jo first found herself talking with Anne Maria and Lightning. Anne Maria, for once, had put down her hairspray and was fishing her passport out of her purse.

“Wait, you’re going to the States?” Jo’s eyes followed the passport. “I thought you were Canadian.” A reasonable assumption: Canadian reality show, Canadian cast.

Anne Maria laughed. “I’ve got dual citizenship, doll. Spend every summer in Jersey with my aunts and uncles and junk. ‘Xcept for the past two weeks, obvs, but I’m gettin’ back to Toronto in September.”

“The Lightning is headin’ back to Toronto _today_.” Lightning flexed for absolutely no reason. “Hey Jo, let me know if you’re ever in the area. You can sit in on some of the Lightning’s football practices. Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure _I’ll_ learn a thing or two.” As if. Still, she accepted Lightning’s offered fistbump.

Anne Maria elbowed Jo. “Same for me, toots. You ain’t so bad, y’know? I’d be down to hang wheneva.”

Jo eyed her warily. “As long as there’s no frilly frou-frou girly stuff involved... Sure? Why not.”

Anne Maria laughed as she uncapped another bottle of hairspray. “Take care, blondie.”

Jo moved on, passing Dakota and Sam. Since she hadn’t been particularly close to either of them, Jo merely flashed a farewell peace sign to the couple and instead walked over to Dawn and B.

“What’s up, nerds?” she asked. B nodded cooly. Dawn giggled at Jo’s word choice.

“Nothing much,” she said. “B and I were just discussing the flaws of air transport.”

“Discussing?” Jo looked from Dawn to B. _How can you have a discussion with someone who literally doesn’t talk_?

B passed Jo a trinket: a miniature metal airplane model, sleek and refined.

“B has several solutions in mind to cut down air pollution.” Dawn nodded at the model Jo held in her hands.

“Did you make this on the way here?” Jo asked. B nodded. “Pretty cool, actually.” Nerdy, yes, but at least B didn’t flaunt his brains the way Cameron did. She passed back the plane, and B slipped it into his coat pocket.

“Jo,” Dawn said earnestly, turning to face her directly, “though we were only teammates for a short time, I enjoyed getting to know you. You have one of the most remarkable auras I’ve ever encountered.”

“Thanks, Pixie Stick.” Never one for long emotional soliloquies, Jo kept it short. “You made the Rat team actually tolerable.”

“It was my pleasure.” Dawn glanced at her plane ticket. “I suspect I’d better get going before I miss my flight to Quebec.”

“See ya around, Dawn.” Jo patted her shoulder.

“We’ll be in touch,” Dawn said in her mysterious I-know-something-you-don’t way. “Best of luck to you, Jo. You can talk with Zoey and Brick, now; I know that’s what you want to do.”

“Uh. Okay?” _Just roll with it_. “Catch ya later.”

A few feet away, the friendship quartet—Brick, Zoey, Mike, and Cameron—was saying their own goodbyes. Jo was about to join their little circle when, in her peripheral vision, she noticed Scott slinking away like a disgraced weasel.

 _Ah, what the heck_. Jo dashed after him.

“Hey, Shark Bait!”

Scott stopped walking and scowled. “Come to gloat over your boyfriend’s victory?”

“Okay, first of all, he is _not_ my boyfriend.” Jo scratched her neck. “And second of all, just wanted to say that you played a nasty game. Really gave me a run for my money. Literally.” She chuckled. “There’s a reason I wanted to take you to the final three until you put _poison ivy_ in my _smoothie_.”

“Uh, thanks.” Scott’s scowl lessened. “You didn’t do too bad yourself. And some of your nicknames were… pretty funny.”

“I know.” Jo beamed smugly. “I look forward to facing you again in a hypothetical next season.” She held out her hand. With begrudging civility, Scott shook it.

“Until then.” He turned away. “ _Au revoir_.” And with that, he walked off to find his flight. Jo didn't envy him at all.

She barely had time to turn around before she was clobbered by a Zoey-style hug.

“I am _so_ going to miss seeing your sour face every day,” Zoey cried.

“Can you let me go?” Jo wheezed. She’d had enough gasping for air for one day, thank you very much.

“My bad.” Zoey released her and stepped back, bumping into Brick in the process.

“Where are you guys going?” Jo asked, looking at Zoey intentionally.

“British Columbia,” Zoey declared. Unnecessarily, she added, “Mike just left for Manitoba.”

Fitting, considering Mike had an entire alter named after the province. Jo wasn’t keen on knowing she lived in the same province as Pointy, but whatever. “So you’re doing the long-distance junk?”

“Yeah.” Zoey nodded. “We’ll make it work.”

“Good luck with that,” Jo scoffed. Long-distance sounded unbearable. “Don’t get your heart broken, okay?”

For once, Zoey picked up the good intentions behind Jo’s scornful tone, and she nodded. “I’ll try to avoid it.

“Hey, do you guys wanna go get a coffee with me? Boarding for my flight doesn’t start for another half hour, so I’ve got time.”

Jo checked her ticket, and then the clock on the wall; her flight’s boarding had started five minutes ago, which gave her, at most, a half-hour before she needed to be on the plane. 

“Yeah, but we gotta make it quick,” she answered. Jo didn’t care much for coffee—she refused to rely on caffeine for energy—but hey, if she wasn’t guaranteed to see Zoey or Brick ever again, she might as well take the opportunity to hang out with them.

“Awesome.” Zoey turned to the third member of their party. “Brick?”

“I’d love to, but, regretfully, my flight departs soon. I wouldn’t want to risk missing it.”

“Oh, I get it,” Jo quipped sardonically, trying her best to ignore the emotional gut punch. “You won a million dollars and now you’re too good for us.” 

“That’s not it at all!” Brick furrowed his brow. “As a cadet, I believe in being punctual.”

“Are you okay, Jo?” Zoey raised a concerned eyebrow.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Jo insisted. And she was. Why wouldn’t she be fine? She had no reason not to be fine.

Either way, she glowered at the tile flooring while Zoey and Brick hugged farewell.

“I’ll text you as soon as I get home,” Zoey promised.

Brick chuckled. “Not if I text you first, ma’am.” He turned to Jo; her mind suddenly blanked.

 _Oh come on, what is wrong with you_? the voice in her head yelled. _Maybe you_ do _need some caffeine_.

“Uh, don’t lose that.” Jo pointed at the million-dollar case in his left hand.

“I won’t.” He smiled and stuck his right hand out. “It’s been an honor serving with you, Jo.”

She shook it with an accidental intensity that left Brick wincing. “You too. We made a kick-butt team.”

“That we did.”

Awkward silence. Gah, since when had she been so socially inept?

Brick opened his mouth to add something—

“Ready to go get that coffee?” Zoey crooked her arm, expecting Jo to link arms with her. 

Jo stared. “I’m not doing that.”

Brick chuckled. “I’ll talk to you guys soon. Farewell, soldiers!” With one last salute, Brick marched off to board his flight.

That hadn’t gone as anticipated. As she and Zoey walked off, Jo glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting to meet Brick’s gaze for a final time. But nope, his back was towards them.

 _You’ve been reduced to a driveling sap_ , lamented the voice in her head. _Shut up_ , she told it.

At the coffee kiosk, Zoey ordered some overpriced exotic brew she’d probably stolen from a hipster blog. Jo bought a granola bar, devoured it immediately, and then bought another.

“So where are you heading to?” Zoey asked. She sipped her drink.

“Same place as your boyfriend, actually. Manitoba.”

Zoey’s eyes nearly popped out of her skull. “ _Really_?”

“Yes, _really_. Why do you look like you just choked on a coffee bean?”

Zoey coughed. “Coffee’s just hot. Where in Manitoba?”

“Winnipeg.” Jo bit into her second granola bar. Okay, Zoey’s widening grin was giving her the heebie-jeebies.

“Oh,” she squeaked with a barely-contained giggle. “Mike lives way further north than Winnipeg.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want to risk running into him.” Jo drummed her fingers on the table. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

They talked for a few minutes about more frivolous, inconsequential stuff. Honestly, Jo only half-listened, which was consistent with most of her conversations with Zoey. After her third glance at the wall clock, Jo finally pushed her chair back and stood up.

“Okay, I better get going. If I get stranded in _Muskoka_ ‘cause I missed the plane, I’m gonna die.”

“One last hug?” Zoey asked.

Cue reluctant sigh. “If you _have_ to.”

Zoey got up and embraced her briefly. “I’m so glad we became friends.”

“Yeah, yeah.” For once, Jo hugged her back. “But same. You don’t totally suck, Flower Power.”

With one final wave, she left Zoey at the coffee kiosk and walked briskly down the long, grey halls of the terminal. Her signature scowl plastered on her face, Jo passed gate after gate.

At gate sixteen, she halted and shoved her ticket at the gate attendant. He examined it, then eyed her with undisguised annoyance.

“Just in time, too,” he drawled before returning her ticket. “Column F just got called to board.”

“Aren’t I lucky.” Jo trekked on through the long corridor that led to Flight AC329, destination: Winnipeg. Chef had bought her seat F27. If she remembered correctly, column F meant she’d have a window seat, a definite perk. Hopefully, she’d be far away from any crying babies or sniveling grandpas.

A line of passengers slowly shuffled up the ramp and into the plane; Jo rolled her eyes at the traffic and stared at the sky; though it had been clear blue when they’d left Wawanakwa, layers of grey clouds now covered it.

Finally, the line moved and Jo walked into the plane. She silently counted until she reached row 27. Though all three seats were empty, the middle seat’s tray had been pulled down.

 _Guess my row-mate went to the bathroom_ , Jo surmised. _Please don’t be an old guy with a bladder issue_.

After stuffing her duffel bag beside a grey briefcase in the overhead compartment, Jo scooted into her seat and stared out the window, watching other planes pitter about the runway. 

_Wonder if I’ll be able to spot Wawanakwa after we take off_. Jo rested her chin in her palm; her stomach wiggled unhappily. 

An emptiness nestled itself in her chest; the grand adventure of Total Drama had officially ended.

 _C’mon, count your blessings._ Sure, she wouldn’t be seeing Brick or Zoey or Dawn again for a long while, but she was also freed from the pain-in-the-butts that were Chris, Mike, and Cameron.

 _What else_? Jo pursed her lips. Well, she could take an hour-long shower to finally rid herself of mutant stink. Wash her clothes thoroughly—or buy new clothes entirely, if the stench didn’t disappear.

No more nasty food! Jo smirked. Goodbye, mutant snails and literal gruel. Hello, bacon and steak.

Oh, and her favorite workout podcast had likely updated during her stint on the island. Plus, once Jo got back, she could resume a normal exercise regime instead of running a shaky 5k every morning.

The more she thought about the luxuries awaiting her at home, the more she relaxed. Her fists unclenched, and Jo closed her eyes. If she threw herself into her daily 8ks and deadlifts, she could forget this whole thing ever happened. 

_Okay, not forget entirely_ , she amended. _But this doesn’t need to be a big deal._

 _It’s a fool-proof plan_.

“ _Jo_?”

She whipped her head around and nearly jumped out of her skin. Her fool-proof plan flew straight out the plane window. In the isle stood Brick. Yeah, the same one that just fifteen minutes ago she’d said farewell to, that Brick.

“What the heck are you _doing_ here?” she yelped, eyes wide. Either she’d stumbled across serendipity, or this was some practical joke courtesy of Chef.

“This is my flight! What are _you_ doing here?”

“This is _my_ flight!” Jo waved a hand around. “I live in Winnipeg!”

Brick hadn’t moved from the aisle. “I live an hour south of Winnipeg.” 

So floored was Jo that she accidentally cursed. “Holy sugar honey iced tea. I just—are you serious? How did we spend twelve days together and not _once_ did this come up?”

He finally sat down in the seat beside her. “I suppose we were preoccupied with other matters.”

“No kidding.” Jo ran a hand through her hair and chuckled. “Guess you’re not getting rid of me that easily, huh?”

“It appears not.” Brick laughed.

“Wait.” Something clicked in Jo’s jittery mind. “Did you tell Zoey?”

“Where I live? Yeah, I mentioned it when we were saying farewell to Mike and Cam.”

“ _Wow_.” Jo explained Zoey’s giddy behavior at the coffee kiosk. “She knew we’d probably be on the same flight and she didn’t tell me! What a snake.” Jo pounded a fist into her hand.

“Aw, don’t blame Zoey! That was an entertaining surprise if I’ve ever had one.”

“Got that right.” Jo shifted in her seat.

The intercom crackled, and Jo half expected Chris’ showy voice to announce another challenge. Thankfully, it was just the pilot announcing the plane’s takeoff would occur within the next ten minutes.

“So,” Jo said when the broadcast ended, “I watched _P*A*S*H_ last night. I hate to break it to you, but it sucked.”

Just as she’d anticipated, her statement was met with protest. “No it does not! It’s a classic!”

Their banter continued well after the plane left the runway. Brick’s indignant, flustered frowns effortlessly erased her apathy. Two and a half hours teasing and talking with him? Jo couldn’t have planned it better if she had bought the tickets herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both chapters 19 and 20 drew moderately from personal experience. Saying goodbye to your friends with no idea of when you'll see them again? Harsh. But also, the absolute elation of coincidentally running into them at the very last moment? *chef's kiss*  
> Also, I haven't been to an airport since I was five, so I had to frantically text my friend and ask her how the whole process works (and even then, I have no idea how American airports compare with Canadian ones). Tl;dr thank you for suspending your disbelief.


	20. Truth or Laser Shark

The greatest thing about Jo’s hoodie was its excellent heat retainment. As soon as Jo slid out of the car, a gust of frigid winter air slammed her in the face with such vigor that her eyebrows nearly froze right off. Aside from that, the chill barely touched her. Thanks, hoodie.

After checking the car was properly locked, Jo slipped her keys into her pocket and trudged through the dark, careful to avoid patches where the half-melted slush had frozen over.

The porchlight was lit, warmly beckoning her as if she was a traveler wary from weeks of travel and not a high schooler who’d driven a mere hour to get here.

She knocked on the front door. During the short wait, she watched her visible breaths die in the air. The door opened and revealed a now-familiar face framed by coiffed curls and a bandana.

“Good evenin’, Jo! Glad to see you got here safe.”

“What’s up, Mrs. M?” Jo strolled inside and pulled off her damp shoes, setting them to the side as she’d been instructed to do several times before.

“How was the drive?”

“Meh,” Jo said, straightening up so she could brag properly. “Everything’s icy as heck, but as an expert driver, I had no problem at all.”

“Good to hear, sugar.” Mrs. McArthur closed the front door behind Jo. “The rest of the fam and I will be watchin’ upstairs if you kids need me.”

“Got it.” Jo marched into the kitchen as if it was her own. The room’s only occupant had his back turned to her while he poured freshly-made popcorn into a large bowl. After a few moments of being ignored, Jo announced her presence with a loud cough.

“Ah!” Brick startled to attention, whirling around with the popcorn still in his hands. “Jo! Good to see you, ma’am.”

“Ditto.” She crossed the room in two steps, shoved a hand into the popcorn bowl, and ate a few pieces. “Is this the caramel stuff?”

“Affirmative.” Brick nodded. “The kind that Anne Maria requested.”

“Speaking of Poofhead, any idea when they’re gonna get here this time?” Last week, Anne Maria and Lightning had miscalculated their bus’s arrival time, showing up only after “Bigger! Badder! Brutaler!” had started.

Brick set down the popcorn bowl and checked his phone. “Anne Maria has just informed me they’ll be arriving momentarily.”

Jo glanced at the clock. 6:50. “Better to arrive ten minutes early than ten minutes late, I guess.”

They had just settled down in the basement, the popcorn bowl and a laptop set on the coffee table in front of them, when a loud knock rattled the front door.

“Go get that.” Jo waved a hand. “I’ll handle the video call.”

While Brick ran upstairs to greet Lightning and Anne Maria, Jo opened Skype and navigated to one particular chat. Nine of the thirteen members were online.

“ _Ready whenever you are @Zoey_ ,” she sent in the chat.

“Sha-licious!” As usual, Lightning’s emphatic voice preceded his entrance. Jo glanced up as Brick returned to the basement, followed by Anne Maria and Lightning.

“Ay doll. What’s up?” Anne Maria doused her hair in another layer of spray.

“Put that away!” Jo demanded. “I don’t want to die of aerosol poisoning before the show even gets good.”

“Yeah yeah, I was just finishing up anyway.” Anne Maria shoved the spray into her poof and sat down on Jo’s left. Brick placed himself on her right, and Lightning perched beside him on the end of the couch.

Anne Maria picked up the caramel popcorn bowl. “Aw, Brick, you remembered!” 

“Of course.” Brick nodded at her, then turned to Lightning. “How’s basketball going, mate?”

“Lightning’s runnin’ the team,” Lightning said easily. “We’re definitely gonna win every game.”

“Sure you are,” Jo commented, still waiting for Zoey to start the video call. “Especially since you’re missing Thursday practices for this little rendezvous.”

“Hey, as long as Lightning is back home for Friday practice, it doesn’t matter!” he said. “That's when we play sha-scrimmages.”

From Jo’s understanding, basketball season was much less high-stakes than football season, which explained why Lightning’s dad—some rich superstar, apparently—was willing to fund his son’s weekly plane trips from Toronto to Winnipeg. 

“I’ll have to drive out for a game sometime,” Jo muttered, even though she wasn’t gonna make a twenty-one-hour drive just to watch Lightning lose, “Just to see how bad your team does.”

Anne Maria jumped in to defend Lightning. “He ain’t _that_ bad, I swear. But don’t worry, we’ll get back in time for his practice tomorrow. That’s a promise.” She whipped out a nail file and went to town on her manicure.

At last, a notification popped up; Zoey had started the video chat.

“Call is starting!” Jo announced. She clicked the ‘join’ button; Anne Maria, Brick, and Lightning leaned across her shoulders and watched the screen filled with their other nine castmates. As a precaution, Jo immediately muted Staci.

“Hey guys!” Zoey waved.

“Good to see everyone again!” Cameron said. An overlap of ‘hellos’ followed from everyone else, except for Dawn and B, who waved silently, and Scott, who simmered unsocially.

“Who’s ready to watch this one?” Anne Maria yelled, bouncing one leg in excitement. “Woo hoo!”

Jo nudged Brick. “TV, doofus.”

Clicking the remote, he channel-surfed until he landed on Total Drama’s network.

“Wait, who gets eliminated tonight?” asked a clueless Mike.

From the screen she shared with Sam, Dakota raised a sheepish hand. “That would be me. Although I don’t know if I actually deserved it, or if _Scott_ manipulated me out.”

Everyone zeroed in on Scott. His annoyance deepened. “If you guys gang up on me, I’m leaving the call.” 

Jo rolled her eyes. Scott had only agreed to the video call viewing party because, as he had phrased it last week, he “wanted to take credit for his genius sabotage.” One episode in, and he hadn’t done anything noteworthy. Yawn.

“Attention everyone!” Brick announced before the conversation could continue. “The program will be starting momentarily!”

“That means shut up!” Jo added, double-checking to make sure Staci was still muted. As the credits from the previous program faded, everyone quieted down. Jo folded her arms and leaned back, sinking into the comfortable plush couch. 

“Previously on Total Drama,” Chris announced, diving into a summary of the season’s debut episode.

Though she was too focused on the TV to note her castmates’ expressions, Jo expected the clips flashing across the screen equally mesmerized them as they did her. That was _her_ getting tossed into the lake by an exploding boat. That was _her_ riding a totem pole down the hill. It was pretty freaking surreal.

When the theme song started, Anne Maria hummed along. Lightning yelled and pointed at himself on the screen. Just as she had last week, Jo made a point of nudging Brick when they came up—twice!—during the montage. “Haha, I beat you!”

“True”—he nudged her back—“but I beat you to the million dollars.” 

Jo stuck her tongue out as Chris dumped a water bucket on Dakota’s head.

“Sha-burn!” Lightning crowed.

“Zip it, Lightning,” Zoey said from the computer.

The opening scene in the Rat girls’ cabin didn’t interest Jo until Dawn insulted Dakota. “I see people’s auras! And it looks like someone threw up on yours.” 

Jo laughed. “Nice one!”

“For what it’s worth,” Dawn replied demurely, “Dakota’s aura has much improved since that day.”

The scene swapped to the Rat boys’ room. If she had been laughing at Dawn’s aura comment, Jo went ballistic when Scott insinuated he’d been making out with “one of the honeys.” Every other girl in the chat also laughed hysterically. 

“It’s too much! I swear, this guy’s gonna make my mascara run!” Anne Maria wheezed, fanning away tears in her eyes. Scott sighed dramatically.

“Hey, we never did find out who Scott was sha-kissing,” Lightning pointed out with a confused frown.

“He didn’t actually kiss anyone,” Brick explained moments before a confessional cut expounded on Scott’s search for the invincibility idol.

“Pfft, figures,” Lightning said.

After a few lame-o scenes of the other four Maggots—no offense to Anne Maria and Zoey, full offense to Cameron and Mike—Jo perked up again when Brick appeared on the screen.

“Hey! They’re gonna show the part where we run into each other!” he said, straightening up on the couch beside her.

“Oh boy.” Jo winced. She’d definitely said some, uh, not-nice stuff in her pre-team-swap confessionals. Hopefully, Chris didn’t air too many of them.

“My biggest competition here is probably Jo,” Brick was saying in a confessional of his own.

“Got that right.” Jo smirked, and Brick smiled cheesily.

“Wouldn’t it be Scott?” Anne Maria pointed out, popping a caramel popcorn into her mouth. “Since he got to the finale and you placed third?”

“Technicalities.” Jo waved a hand.

Two seconds later, she and Brick collided on screen.

“So what’s the truth, huh?” Anne Maria asked during their escalating ‘who ran faster’ discourse. “Didja run an 8k or what?”

“Shush! Don’t interrupt me!” Jo ignored her question in favor of watching herself talk to Brick. _Jeez, was my hand on his chest for that long_? She couldn't ruminate further because the footage cut to a confessional.

“ _I’ll_ carry them all the way to victory,” snarled on-screen Jo. Present-day Jo chewed on her bottom lip as her past self continued, “Just being nice so that aptly-named clump of cadet meat will be loyal. But when the time comes… _ow_ , splinter! You little—” The confessional cut off.

“‘Aptly-named clump of cadet meat?’” Brick repeated with a frown.

“Not cool!” Mike said from the computer. _Shut up, Mike_.

“Yikes. Girl, that was harsh,” Anne Maria commented, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh come on! We weren’t even friends then!” Jo protested. “Obviously I didn’t go through with it!”

“Dang it, Jo! If I had known you were so devious, I would’ve teamed up with you earlier in the game!” Scott complained.

“Don’t make me mute you,” she threatened before turning to Brick. “Are you gonna mope about this, or are we good?”

“Ya’ll just talked over Lightning’s part!” Lightning complained loudly. “Not cool!”

Brick sighed and lowered his voice so Lightning could watch without interruption. “Of course we’re good. Provided you changed your opinion, of course.”

“No duh.” Jo gave him an are-you-dumb look. “You think I’d be here if I hadn’t?”

“I know, I know! I was just making sure.”

Their banter died and they continued watching the episode, which provided an insightful look at the origins of Dakota and Sam’s unforeseen relationship. On the computer, Dakota and Sam laughed hysterically at their antics.

 _If I ever act like that with anyone, please just kill me_ , Jo thought, glancing at Brick to see what he thought of the whole matter.

“If you’re into ultimate kickboxing, I may have to marry you,” Mike said on-screen.

“It’s been two days and you’re _already_ proposing?” Jo snarked as she stole a popcorn kernel from Anne Maria’s bowl.

Zoey cut in from the video call: “I thought it was cute!”

“Ya thought wrong, Red.” Anne Maria pursed her lips.

Despite its lack of physical exertion, Truth or Laser Shark proved to be entertaining. Sam and Brick looked ready to die when Chris aired their secrets, and no one on the call could help but chuckle at their discomfort. Jo patted Brick’s shoulder sympathetically and then minutes later was cackling after her on-screen self smacked Mike upside the head.

As the kids squabbled about quitting the challenge, Brick yawned.

“Jeez, you’re getting bored of yourself already?” Jo quipped as he stretched his arms across the top of the couch.

“No, ma’am. Just a teensy bit tired,” he replied breezily.

“Boy am I glad he ended that challenge early!” Anne Maria commented after the program cut to commercial break. “I can’t think of anything I’d need to hide, but ya never know the junk Chris could dig up.”

“Maybe if Chris had used the challenge to reveal my DID, we could’ve avoided a lot of problems,” Mike said.

“You can say that again,” Anne Maria muttered, her voice low enough that the computer mic didn’t pick it up.

Jo leaned over to Anne Maria. “Are you gonna be this salty for the rest of the viewing parties?”

“Eh, I’ve made my peace with it.” Anne Maria popped another popcorn into her mouth. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna let Red off the hook easy, though.”

“Fair enough.” Satisfied with Anne Maria’s answer, Jo reclined against the couch once more. Her head bumped against Brick’s arm. She glanced over and met his gaze.

“My bad,” Jo mumbled, merely scratching her face. A few months ago, she would’ve reflexively jerked her head back; tonight, she wasn’t fazed by the accidental contact.

“Uh, no problem at all,” Brick answered.

The Mad Skills Obstacle Course portion of the episode was… interesting. Enough time had passed that most viewers could laugh at their momentous fails—Anne Maria walking straight off the bridge and into the mud, Lightning getting absolutely destroyed by the boot. When Dawn ducked out of the way so Brick could take a cannonball to the face, Jo winced.

“That earned me my very first trip to the medical tent,” Brick commented proudly.

“Chris really made you work for that purple heart,” she replied.

Lightning went ballistic when Scott purposefully took his sweet time grooming the rat. “You mean we could’ve been sha-winning the challenge? Not fair!”

On the Skype call, Scott cackled maniacally. Anne Maria reached over and muted him.

“Even if Scott _hadn’t_ been throwing the challenge, we still would’ve won,” Jo said, smirking at Lightning. “We just had superior players.” Which was true, even if one player was concussed, two had fallen into the mud, and one had maggot vomit all over his face.

“Take that back!” Lightning demanded.

“Sha-no way!” Jo said. On the screen, Svetlana had switched out. Somehow, eyelashes and red lipstick had appeared on her face.

“Lookin’ good, Princess Ballerina,” Jo commented sarcastically.

Sam tackled the elephant in the room. “Hey, why does Svetlana have makeup on?”

“The production team must have edited some cosmetics onto the footage,” Cameron theorized. “Are they allowed to do that?”

“They didn’t mention it to me.” Mike shrugged while Svetlana passed the maggot to Cameron. “It’s probably a visual thing, so audiences at home can recognize when she goes topside.”

Anne Maria raised an eyebrow. “Could’ve picked a better lip color.” 

“Aw, everyone’s a critic,” Zoey retorted. 

_Guess I’ll have to get used to this_. Jo groaned internally. Unless either of them quit the cast viewing parties, she’d be stuck listening to this for the next eleven Thursdays.

During the next few minutes, everyone watched Dakota fall into the mud, scream bloody murder, and flub the challenge for her team.

“See?” Jo smugly pointed at the television as Cameron accidentally won the challenge. “Like I said: superior players.” Lightning glared at her.

“Hey, I have so gotten over that!” Dakota interrupted indignantly, her voice squeaking on every other word. “I’d actually be _willing_ to get covered in mud now! I mean, not that I’d seek out the opportunity, but still! I wouldn't be opposed!”

Scott led the charge to vote Dakota off. Considering she definitely deserved it, no one on the call chewed him out for manipulating the vote. After living through the actual elimination ceremonies, suspense was a no-show at the televised version. Everyone laughed at Sam’s closing confessional, and after Chris’ final sign-off, the episode ended.

“Wow. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing my face on a TV,” Zoey said. 

“Lightning’s _been_ used to it! He’s gonna win next season, you’ll see!” Lightning snatched the popcorn bowl off the table. “Sha-dang, woman, did you eat all the corn?”

“Yeah. Next time, ask for some while the program’s still playin’.” Anne Maria rolled her eyes.

“I think that was a rousing success,” Brick said, drawing the conversation back to the episode. “Sure, I’ll have to change my number and avoid school for the next five days, but it was an enjoyable program nonetheless.”

“Ay, if you’re serious, I’m down to play hooky with ya,” Anne Maria said eagerly. Jo glanced over at her, suddenly suspecting her true motive for joining Lightning’s Winnipeg trip was spite for her school’s truant officers.

“He’s joking,” Jo said. “Brick hasn’t missed a day of school since the seventh grade.”

“Pfft. Nerd.” Anne Maria reached across Jo and punched Brick’s shoulder affectionately.

The video call continued for another quarter-hour as everyone chatted and caught up with each other. One by one, castmates signed off, scampering away to finish homework or sleep or hogtie pigs. After the call ended, Jo shut down the laptop, returned it to Brick, and picked up the popcorn bowl.

“Are you fellows taking off now?”

“As much as I’d love to stick around, I gotta drive these bozos to their hotel.” She jerked a thumb in Anne Maria’s and Lightning’s directions. “Plus, I have to finish studying for my psychology test tomorrow.”

“Lightning is _not_ a bozo!”

“Whatever you say, bozo,” Jo replied as the quartet walked back upstairs. Tasked with putting away the dirty bowl, Jo walked into the kitchen, where Brick’s mom and older sisters were milling around.

“Glad to see you’ve been insulting my son on international television,” Mrs. McArthur said dryly. The sisters giggled.

“I’ve made amends,” Jo assured her, setting the bowl in the sink. “See? I’m cleaning your freaking dishes.”

“Is that all you’ve done?” Mrs. M raised a thick eyebrow.

“Of course not. I’ve done plenty.” And she had, both on the show and afterward. The Jo of January was a far cry from the Jo of July who had mercilessly teased Cameron about his diaper-wearing habits. Total Drama had pushed her far out of her comfort zone, farther than she’d ever anticipated. And you know what? Good.

Jo wasn’t about to get into any of that psychoanalysis mumbo jumbo in the middle of Brick’s kitchen, though, so she only added, “I can’t name examples, ‘cause that’ll spoil the show. Chris will probably sue me from prison or something.”

With a lazy wave of her hand, she left the kitchen and rejoined her peers in the foyer. Lightning had bundled himself into a letterman jacket.

“Lightning.” Jo tossed her keys at him. “Go warm up my car.”

“On it!” Lightning sped out the door like a rocket. 

“Well, I had a blast.” Anne Maria was slipping her wedges on—because yes, even during the chilliest, snowiest weeks of the year, Anne Maria still wore open-toed wedges. “Thanks for hostin’, Brick, you’re a doll.”

“Of course! Anything for a fine companion such as yourself,” Brick answered. Anne Maria hugged him before running outside, screaming shotgun at Lightning.

“So, where’s your hospitality medal?” Jo quipped as she pulled her sneakers on.

“Upstairs, with the rest of them.” Brick’s immediate answer was followed by a frown when he realized too late her question had been asked with sarcasm. “Hey!”

She laughed and straightened up. “Maybe you can show it to me next week.”

He saluted Jo. “I wish you safe travels, captain.”

“Oh, believe me, I’m always safe.” She bumped his shoulder. “Hurry up and get your license, okay? Then you can drive up and hang out with me in the city.”

“That’ll be my first mission,” he promised.

She saluted him farewell; he did the same. And with that, Jo headed out, barely noticing the frigid chill of the winter night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Brick and Jo are in the Korra-and-Asami purgatory where they aren't officially dating by the story's end, but it's gonna happen, like, soon.))  
> EEKE it's finished! :') I genuinely do not know wtf to say.  
> I once got asked if I'd be rewriting All Stars as a sequel to this fic. Tragically, the answer is no. After two big TD projects and five months of nonstop writing, I don't think I could commit to a third project of that magnitude, especially since school just started. However... I have the entire outline of All Stars written out: elimination order, plotlines, all that jazz. I'll most likely post that at some point on my Tumblr. Shoot me an ask if you're curious.  
> Thank you to everyone who's been following along with the story; from the bottom of my heart, I appreciate your support and enthusiasm. Now I'm off to play Total Drama Roblox. See y'all around!

**Author's Note:**

> Well this is more of a prologue than an actual chapter, but yeah, that's the inciting incident.  
> I was rewatching Finders Creepers a few weeks ago and it hit me that if Brick hadn't volunteered, Mike, Cameron, and Anne Maria definitely would have voted Jo out for her "cutthroat attitude." Changes will accumulate; some things will change, and some will stay the same, even if the circumstances differ.


End file.
